


Dialogue Prompts

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Birthday Presents, Blood and Injury, Breakfast, Canon-Typical Violence, Clothed Sex, Comfort Food, Cooking, Couch Sex, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Declarations Of Love, Director Daisy Johnson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Forehead Kisses, Future Fic, Grilled Cheese, Gun Violence, Hangover, Hurt/Comfort, In the framework, Light Angst, Mentions of Rosalind Price, Minor Character Death, Missing Scene, Mission Related, Motorcycles, Nail Polish, Nick Fury's Toolbox, Office Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson's Prosthetic Hand, Post-Framework, Pre-Season/Series 03, Romance, Safehouses, Sappy, Season/Series 03, Secret Warriors (Agents of SHIELD), Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Swimming, The Retreat Safe House (Marvel), Underwear, Wakes & Funerals, Watchdogs (Marvel), Workplace Relationship, Zephyr1 (Agents of SHIELD), background Mack/Elena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-14 10:58:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 39,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10535061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: A series of ficlets filling prompts from a list of 35 lines of dialogue.





	1. "Shut up, I am a delight!"

**Author's Note:**

> I ganked a list of 35 prompts that consist solely of a line of dialogue, posted it on my Tumblr, then invited people to prompt me. The prompts will be used as the chapter titles. Ratings vary, though I'll label the chapters that are mature or explicit.

"Shut up, I am a delight!" Daisy says, only half annoyed at Phil's obvious amusement at her condition.

His answering chuckle is low and a little bit dirty, and warmth spreads through her chest in response. He plants his hands on his hips and slowly looks her up and down – assessingly, not leeringly, although she supposes that technically he's allowed to leer since they're lovers. But Phil's not the sort to leer, she knows, so there's nothing remotely sexual in the way he examines her now. Instead, he's taking in the details of her appearance: both mud and blood are splattered fairly copiously over her field suit, though luckily it's not her blood; there's a bruise blooming on her right cheek where she hit the wall she was trying to use her powers to leap over when the explosion went off; a line of dried blood across her right temple, legacy of the same explosion, indicates where she was grazed by flying shrapnel; and her mud-and-blood-stained field suit is a bit tattered, also as a consequence of the aforementioned explosion.

"You may be a delight, Director," Phil says, his tone teasing, "but I'm sorry to say you don't look – " He pauses, moves a little closer, then scrunches up his nose in what Daisy considers a ridiculously adorable manner. "Or smell very delightful."

He lightly touches his left hand to her right elbow, a questioning look in his eyes, and she shakes her head. "No major damage to me," she tells him, knowing he wouldn't be satisfied without that assurance. "Just bumps and bruises, and the odd scrape." She sighs. "The silly assholes blew themselves up – and me, sort of – before I could even get close enough to talk to them, let alone fight them."

He nods, then wraps his hand more firmly, yet still carefully, around her elbow, and he leads her through the safehouse that's their base on this overseas mission, and into the bathroom.

"Do you want to tell me about it while I run you a bath?" he offers. "And then while you're in the bath, I'll make you something to eat."

"You're definitely a delight," she says emphatically, grinning at the slightly silly look of adoration he gives her – his 'hearteyes' as she calls them.

She leans in and kisses his cheek, then chuckles when she realises that she's left a smudge of dirt on his face. She goes to rub it off with her thumb, but he captures her wrist and holds it away from his face. 

"Not gonna help," he points out, and she chuckles again, then lets him help her out of her clothes and boots, talking him through the aborted mission. She waits while he checks the temperature of the bath water, then gratefully clasps his left arm to steady herself as she steps into the bath – her body's beginning to crash now that the adrenaline's wearing off, and she can feel her muscles trembling from the shock of the explosion. She shivers, too, despite the warmth in the bathroom, but sitting down in the bathtub full of hot water is already starting to help.

Phil leans down and kisses her unbloodied temple, then lightly clasps her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Try not to fall asleep," he says. "I'm going to get some food together for you."

"Thanks, Phil," she says gratefully. "You're the best boyfriend a Director could ask for." 

He grins crookedly at her, then crosses the bathroom to the door. Reaching it, he half turns to look at her, then says, "You _are_ a delight." 

She laughs quietly at his parting shot, then relaxes back into the tub with a soft sigh.


	2. Could You Be Any Louder?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-S3 missing scene.

"Could you be any louder?" demands Hunter with a wince.

Daisy exchanges a look with Coulson, who shrugs, understandably since they weren't talking loudly at all. 

"Hangover?" she asks, without any great sympathy, because she feels he deserves to suffer if he's been boozing after another fight with Bobbi.

Hunter groans, and Daisy rolls her eyes at Coulson, who smirks back at her over the oblivious Brit's head.

"You know, Phil and I were just about to grab some breakfast," she tells him. "Bacon and eggs, beans, and – " She gets no further before Hunter bolts from the kitchen, one hand pressed to his mouth, the other against his stomach.

"Daisy," Coulson says, chuckling quietly. "You don't think you were a little bit mean?"

"Nope," she says firmly. "He should stop fighting with Bobbi. She's healing as fast as she can, and she has far more right to go after Ward than he does – _she_ is the one who was tortured, not Hunter. He's just hurt in his male pride." She snorts. "Typical man."

She feels Coulson go tense beside her, and she immediately turns towards him, an apology on her lips, but he reaches out and touches her elbow.

"Don't," he says softly. "You've no need to apologise. And you're quite right, Daisy. I shouldn't have accused you of being mean. It was uncalled for."

"Phil." She says his name even more softly, then steps into his personal space, slipping her arms around him and holding him carefully, mindful of his arm in its sling. "Just so you know, I do not think you're a typical man." 

His right arm wraps across her back and she feels his chin press against the top of her head. "Thank you," he whispers. "Thank my mom, too."

"I do," she tells him. "Or I would, if, you know – " She cuts herself off, and he pulls back to look at her. 

"I appreciate the sentiment," he says.

She nods. "So, breakfast?" she asks, because this is getting a bit heavy, and she doesn't want to make him too emotional – she's already aware of how – not exactly fragile, but raw – his emotions seem to be since Mack chopped off his hand and lower arm. Not that she finds it the least surprising. Having your body transformed like that, is definitely emotionally disturbing. And she remembers very clearly how careful he was around her after San Juan.

"But maybe not bacon and eggs," he says, and lifts his sling-bound arm slightly off his chest.

"Phil, do you want bacon and eggs? Because if you do, I'll make it for you. I _can_ manage that, at least, if you supervise?" She makes it a question because she really doesn't want to pressure him and make him uncomfortable, but if he wants bacon and eggs for breakfast, she's going to make it for him. (She has not forgotten the grilled cheese he made her when she was in the vibranium cell in the Bus, nor the lunch he made her the day he took her to The Retreat.)

"Are you sure?" he asks, sounding doubtful.

"Yep," she says firmly, and he smiles so gratefully that she has to fight the urge to kiss him. Instead she squeezes him carefully, then lets go of him and moves over to the fridge. 

"One bacon and eggs breakfast for Phil coming up," she tells him, and he looks like he might just want to kiss her. She files that thought away for later consideration, however, and concentrates on getting everything she needs from the fridge.

She's completely forgotten about Hunter and his hangover.


	3. You're Supposed To Talk Me Out of This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future Fic with Director Daisy Johnson. (Mentions of minor character death.)

"You're supposed to talk me out of this," Daisy says with a huff.

Coulson looks surprised. "Am I?" He shakes his head slightly. "Sorry, I – uh – I didn't realise." 

He pulls this cute little frowny face and she wonders when she started thinking of Phil Coulson as cute. "I've never tried to talk you out of anything, though," he points out.

"No," she agrees. "At least, not seriously." He gives her a questioning look, so she elaborates. "You did sort of try to stop me from going down into the temple after Raina. But you weren't exactly in a condition to do much after my dad beat you up."

"Daisy," he says, ever so softly, and she leans into his shoulder as they sit together on the couch in his office. She wraps her right arm around his back, and he copies the gesture, though he tugs her more firmly against him. 

"If you don't want to do this, you absolutely don't have to – I can talk you out of it, if that's what you want me to do." She feels him press his lips to her hair and suppresses a shiver of want at his tenderness and how unfailingly supportive he always is.

"It's okay, Coulson," she says. "I need to do this."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asks. 

"Would you mind?" she counters. She's pretty sure he wouldn't mind otherwise he wouldn't have offered. 

"I don't mind," he says. "Tell you what, let's take Lola. You can drive her there, and I'll drive her back."

"Have I ever told you that you're the best friend I've ever had?" she demands, a lump of emotion in her throat.

"No," he says, his voice husky, and she wonders if he's got the same kind of lump in his throat. "But I'm privileged that you feel that way."

She swallows hard, then turns more fully towards him. "I couldn't do any of this without you," she tells him, and he is definitely looking misty-eyed now, she notices. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Daisy." He whispers, then leans in, pressing his forehead to hers, and she wraps both arms around him. 

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Very early the next morning Daisy pauses as she's about to climb into Lola's driver's seat, watching with a bittersweet pang as Coulson puts their overnight bags in the trunk. He closes the trunk, then comes quickly around to her side of the car. He lightly presses the palm of his left hand against the small of her back, then asks softly, "Are you sure you don't want me to talk you out of going?" he asks. "I could go as your representative."

She shakes her head. "He was my father," she says. "Even if he didn't know that for the last few years. I can't not go to his funeral just because the media might mob me."

"Okay." He presses his lips to her temple, and she turns to face him, then rests her right hand against his chest and leans in to press her lips to his.

"Thanks, Phil," she whispers.

He presses his lips against hers, rather more firmly than she had, but she doesn't mind. She doesn't think Cal would've minded either – in his Dr Winslow persona he'd liked Phil Coulson a lot – she thinks he'd probably be pleased for her if he knew she and Phil were thinking this way.

"Later?" she asks hopefully.

"Later," he agrees, and smiles, squeezes her carefully, then steps away before moving around the front of Lola to climb into the passenger seat. 

Daisy takes a deep, calming breath, then gets behind the wheel. _Later,_ she promises herself.


	4. I'm Alive - I Can Tell Because of the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future Fic with Director Daisy and injured Phil.

"I'm alive – I can tell because of the pain," Coulson mutters, and Daisy leans over him, looking fierce.

"Phil, you idiot," she says, her tone a lot less fierce than her expression. "What were you doing, running into the fight like that?"

"I wanted to help," he says, and flinches, despite himself, at the annoyance that flares in her eyes. 

"How is almost getting yourself killed helping?" she demands. "How is forcing me to get Elena to take charge of my mission so that I could rescue your sorry ass helping?"

"Daisy," he says, his tone pathetic even to his ears.

"Oh no you don't, mister," she says. "You don't get to 'Daisy' your way out of this. You had your mission, I had mine, and your mission did not involve running onto the field and disrupting my mission."

He closes his eyes at the sight of her pained expression, but he opens them again very quickly when he feels her hand cup his cheek, and her breath against his lips, right before she kisses him.

" _Oh_ ," he says, totally amazed. It's not a very long kiss, which he supposes isn't surprising given the state of him. "What was that for?"

She rolls her eyes. "Because I love you, you idiot," she says. "And if you ever do anything like that again, I will personally Quake you to Siberia and back. Understand, Agent Coulson?"

"Yes Director," he says softly, and she gives a sharp nod, then leans in again and kisses him a second time, then a third. When she pulls away from him he has to fight to keep himself from whining, and she chuckles suddenly. "What?"

"I think we're both idiots," she tells him. "We should've done this years ago."

"Yeah," he says softly. "Can we do it some more?"

"Not right now," she says, and he thinks she sounds regretful at refusing. "The medics are going to take you in charge now. I'll see you later." She clasps his right hand briefly, then nods, and Coulson finds himself being lifted into the air, and the last he sees of Daisy for the moment is her turning and hurrying back towards the fight he'd interrupted with his recklessness.

As he's carried up the ramp and into the Z1, he finds himself hoping very hard that the medics don't knock him out for too long. He wants to be kissing Daisy again as soon as she comes back aboard – and he won't be able to do that if he's unconscious.

He doesn't think he's ever looked forward to kissing someone more.


	5. Are you drunk?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventures in nail painting and Hunter being Hunter (and Phil being a sad sexy baby deer!)

"Are you drunk?" Hunter demands, and Coulson scowls at the younger man.

"Of course I'm not drunk," he says irritably. "It's eight in the morning, and I'm the Director of SHIELD."

The Brit frowns. "Then what's with the – " He gestures at Coulson's bare feet which are resting on the coffee table in front of the couch in the common room. His bare feet with the toenails painted blue and little bits of foam holding the toes separate from one another.

"It's none of your business," Coulson tells him curtly. "Go and find someone else to bother."

Hunter opens his mouth to retort, but Daisy comes hurrying around the corner, already talking, "I found the yellow one, Phil," she's saying, but she cuts herself off when she spots Hunter, who's got the look of most unholy glee on his face as he sees the small bottle of nail polish she's carrying.

"Don't," Coulson grits out, glaring daggers at the other man.

"Hunter," Daisy says in a very repressive tone. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugs. "Besides wondering what you two love birds are doing?"

Coulson has to admit that Daisy's glares are second-to-none – she turns one on the British agent now, and he sees Hunter actually visibly wilting under the strength of that glare.

"It's none of your business," she says, her tone very repressive. "Go away, Hunter." She frowns suddenly. "Don't you have inventory for Billy today?"

Hunter scowls, then turns on his heel and stalks away, muttering loudly about bossy young agents, and Daisy smirks at his departing back, then turns back to Coulson, and her smirk broadens into a full-blown grin.

"I guess you do look a little strange," she suggests, her tone gently teasing.

He pouts, and she chuckles as she comes over to sit on the coffee table, carefully lifting his right foot to rest on her knee. "I've got to admit, I think this is one of my better ideas," she says, and he chuckles too.

"Yeah. Painting daisies on my toenails so I remember your name's now Daisy – very good idea."

She flashes a smirk at him, then goes back to her task, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she works.

Coulson watches her, fascinated by her absorption and total concentration – he's only ever before seen her in this concentrated state when she's been hacking or prepping a mission – and it's a little strange, but also strangely flattering, to have himself be the focus of her fierce attention.

Once both feet are finished, she puts away the bottles of nail polish, then she gets to her feet. "Coffee?"

He nods. "Please."

She squeezes his knee (his feet are still planted on a cushion on the coffee table while his nails finish drying), then heads in the direction of the kitchen, and Coulson gazes idly at his painted toenails, remembering the time his mom had let him paint hers. He wonders if Skye – _No, Daisy!_ he scolds himself, glaring at his nails as if he's offended that they didn't remind him – Daisy would like him to paint her nails. And if he dares to suggest it to her. It's Sunday morning, after all, and they don't have any ops today.

When Daisy returns, carrying not just two mugs of coffee, but a tray holding the coffee, and a plate of croissants, he finds himself enjoying the unexpected sheer domesticity of the moment, and he accepts the mug of coffee she passes him with considerable pleasure. Things could be worse, Hunter's weird behaviour notwithstanding: after all, they both could've died just a few weeks ago.

"Thank you, _Daisy_ ," he says with particular emphasis on her correct name.

She smirks. "You're welcome, _Phil_."

He chuckles. "You're quite right," he says. "You should call me Phil now."

She beams, and he can't help thinking how easy it is to please her, and he can't help wishing he could always do things that please her. She deserves so much. (She deserves the world.) And she certainly deserves to have him remember to use her chosen name when he talks with her. Hopefully his new toenail design will help with that, even if he doesn't walk around barefoot. 

She sits down beside him, the plate of croissants balanced on her thigh, and she presses her shoulder against his, and he wishes he could safely rely on his new fake left hand not to drop his mug of coffee because then he'd be able to wrap his right arm around her. As it is he'll just have to settle for pressing his shoulder back against hers.

And perhaps, one day soon, he'll finally find the nerve to tell her just how he feels about her.


	6. I’ve been buying the wrong underwear.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a 'mission' to buy a birthday gift for Ace from her father, Daisy and Coulson get a little distracted.

"I've been buying the wrong underwear," Daisy mutters.

Coulson's expression at hearing this is understandably startled. "I beg your pardon?"

She snorts. "Sorry. Just – Never mind." She goes to toss the waiting room magazine aside, but his prosthetic hand clasps her wrist, then slides over her hand to take it from her, and she does her best to suppress the little shiver that she feels at his touch – it's not that his hand is a prosthetic – that doesn't bother her – it's that he's not usually so touchy-feely with her.

She watches from the corner of her eye as he flips through the magazine until he finds the article she was just skimming while they waited for Cal – no, Dr Winslow – to finish up with a patient.

"I always think women should wear whatever underwear makes them feel good about themselves," he tells her, and she feels her eyebrows shoot up.

"Really?" she asks, curious despite herself – this conversation has major embarrassment potential, but apparently Coulson feels no embarrassment about discussing this with her. Is it because it's her, she wonders, or is it because he's Coulson and he's very definitely not like other men.

"Of course," he says, sounding surprised that she doubts him. "If you only care about feeling comfortable, wear – what do they call them? – granny knickers." She can't help a snort escaping at hearing those words from him, and he flicks an amused glance her way before bringing his attention back to the magazine pages. "If you want to look sexy, whether for yourself or someone else – wear the lacy, sexy stuff." 

He closes the magazine and tosses it onto the coffee table in front of the couch where they're sitting. "After all," he goes on, "men don't have to worry about it – why should women? The double standards that apply to men and women in every facet of their lives is – Mmphf."

Daisy can't help it, and she knows it's impulsive, and might well ruin their friendship and working relationship, but when he goes all feminist on her like this, she has to kiss him. To her immense relief, he immediately kisses her back, once he's over his initial surprise. His right hand cups the back of her head, and his left strokes slowly up and down her spine, and she can't quite hold back a moan of pleasure.

A loudly cleared throat brings her back out of the haze of lust and desire, and she pulls back, a bit too slowly, to look over at Cal – Dr Winslow, who's watching them with a very amused expression.

"I hate to interrupt," he tells them, "but it's almost the end of office hours, and I do have paperwork to do before I can go home."

Daisy feels herself blushing, and doesn't dare to look at Coulson – Phil – although his vibrations tell her quite clearly that he's also grown very aroused.

"Sorry," she says, and peels herself away from Phil to get to her feet and shake hands with her unsuspecting father.

"We want to buy a dog for the son of a friend," she begins, and after a few moments, she senses Phil moving to stand half beside, half behind her, and his hand presses lightly to the small of her back. It feels just as good, albeit in a different way, to his hand stroking her back, and she lets herself press back lightly against his palm.

When Dr Winslow turns away to pick something up from his reception desk, Phil leans in and whispers in her ear: "Later", and she shivers at the promise in his voice. 

Maybe she'll go and buy some new underwear after this – and he can help her choose.


	7. Prepare to be amazed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Deer Phil has issues with Nick Fury's toolbox - and Daisy has to comfort him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Mature

"Prepare to be amazed," Phil announces, and Daisy looks up from the tablet she's been poring over to gaze at him enquiringly.

"Yes?" she says encouragingly.

He gives her a dazzling smile, then makes a sweeping gesture, which activates the holo controls of Fury's toolbox database. She smirks at him, and he grins back, looking like a small boy at Christmas. Then he clicks his fingers, and a burst of images and noise slams into the room, and Daisy claps her hands over her ears in dismay. She notices that her dismay's nothing compared to Phil's obvious consternation, and sees him waving his hands and – well, she presumes he's shouting, but she can't actually hear his voice of the tumult of sound that's pouring into the office.

It quickly becomes obvious that he's having no luck in shutting the toolbox down, and Daisy rushes over to his desk and quickly aims a short burst of vibrations at it, which shuts it off and leaves them in a ringing silence.

She turns and sees Phil, his shoulders slumped and his expression downcast, standing in the middle of the room, and she can't help walking over to him and wrapping her arms around him.

"You okay?" she asks softly.

"I guess I need to spend more time on it," he mumbles, and she squeezes him.

"I guess you do," she says, torn between amusement and sympathy, but trying to keep the former to herself. 

"It's okay, you can laugh if you want to," he says glumly, and she squeezes him some more, then very daring, briefly kisses his cheek. He pulls back enough to look at her face, his expression a little lighter, then asks, "What was that?"

She shrugs, suddenly feeling bashful instead of daring. She knows she has no business kissing her boss, even if he does look like a sad baby deer right now.

"Daisy?" His gaze is steady and there's nothing in either his face, his voice, or his vibrations to indicate he's disgusted or horrified by her kiss.

"Trying to kiss it better?" she suggests, and he chuckles, then lets go of her torso to cup her face in both hands instead. His thumbs press at the corner of her mouth and she finds herself opening her mouth to his as he kisses her properly, his tongue sliding over her teeth and exploring her mouth very thoroughly indeed.

His kisses are gentle yet unrelenting and she finds herself growing steadily more and more aroused – and noticing that he is too – she can feel his thickening cock pressing against her thigh, and his arousal 'colours' his vibrations too.

"I'm amazed now," she murmurs against his lips when they finally pull apart to catch their breath.

He chuckles. "Good," he breathes. "Very good."


	8. It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy and the Phil Coulson in the Framework share a 'moment' before she gets him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit

"It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself," Coulson observes, and Daisy looks at him. 

She purses her lips, then nods, albeit reluctantly. 

"So maybe don't?" he suggests gently. 

"But – " 

"Daisy," he says, still gently. "I've only known you four days – " He frowns, and she guesses he's trying to get his head around the whole 'not real' aspect again. "But I can tell you're a good person. Why torture yourself by going back there. Back to – _him_?"

She swallows, looking at his dear, beloved face – the glasses don't hide the kindness in his beautiful blue eyes, any more than the school teacher clothes can disguise the man he is, inside the Framework or 'out there'.

"Phil," she says softly. She doesn't know what her face is doing, but it must be doing a Thing, because he suddenly reaches out and cups her cheek, then presses his mouth ever so carefully to hers. She can't help making a small, needy noise, and his kiss transforms from careful to greedy (though it's still, somehow, careful), then he tugs her onto his lap, and she kisses him back equally as urgently. She wants him – she's wanted him (or 'her Coulson') for a very long time. (How long has she been thinking of him as 'hers'? At least since Raina kidnapped him, she's sure.)

His hands slip under her button down, where it's not tucked into her jeans at the back, and she moans as he draws his left thumbnail up her spine, feeling desire spike through her body. They scrabble their clothes off each other, between greedy, demanding kisses, and then she's sprawled supine on his couch and his hot mouth is kissing a path down her body before he buries his face between her legs, and she comes hard, with so little contact that it's a shock, but it's a pleasurable shock.

He gets her off twice before her tugging on his shoulders persuades him to move back up her body, and they guide his cock into her between them, though it takes two tries because they're still kissing as if their lives depend on them remaining joined at the mouth – and maybe they do, she thinks distantly, gasping in surprise as he finally gets his cock into her, stretching and filling her as he penetrates deeply.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

They take it in turns to shower afterwards, then settle into Phil's bed.

"Will I remember this?" he asks, drawing her body against his so they're snuggled tightly together.

"I don't know," she tells him. "I'm not sure how the Framework works once you've been in it for a period of time."

"But you will?" She bites her bottom lip, then nods, and he leans in to lave his tongue over her lip, then kisses her, undemanding, yet determined. "Then you must tell me."

She feels heat flush her face. "I – "

"Daisy," he says very firmly. "Promise me, please, that when you've got everyone out, and Aida's been deactivated or destroyed, that you'll tell me that we had this time together in here."

She swallows hard, then nods. "Promise."

"Good," he says, his voice soft, yet satisfied. His right hand slides down her back to cup her ass. "Let's make it worth sharing, shall we?"

"Phil," she groans as he draws his hand over her hip then eases it between her thighs.

"I love you, Daisy," he whispers, and she whispers his words back.

She's not sure how she'll tell the Phil in the real world, but she knows, now, that she must.


	9. So much for not getting involved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future Fic: Phil and Daisy get frisky in the Director's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Mature

"So much for not getting involved," Phil says ruefully, and Daisy snorts as she tries to suppress her laughter. He raises his eyebrows and she gives way to her amusement, laughing softly. After a moment he grins, and she clutches at his shoulders, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"As if you could ever not get involved," she says, giggling still.

"Yeah, okay, Director," he says, emphasising her title.

"Aw, is my favourite Agent feeling put out?" she teases.

"Daisy," he says, his voice soft as he remonstrates.

"What?" she asks. "C'mon, Phil, everyone knows you're my favourite Agent. Or if they don't, they haven't been paying attention these last few years."

He slips his left arm under her legs and wraps his right arm across her back, then scoops her into his lap, and she raises her eyebrows at him.

"And just what d'you think you're doing, Agent?" she asks. 

"Cuddling my favourite Director," he says genially.

She does an exaggerated double-take. "Don't let Nick hear you calling me that."

He laughs softly. "C'mon, Daisy, he already knows you're my favourite Director."

"Touché," she murmurs.

They both look down at the tablet that's resting on the coffee table in front of the couch in Daisy's office, where a video attachment that Daisy had received via email sits 'paused'.

"So what are we going to tell our daughter?" she asks him, nuzzling her lips against his temple.

"That she has our permission," he says firmly. 

"Good call, Agent," she says, and nips at his earlobe, making him shiver with pleasure.

"Daisy," he says in a low voice.

"Mmm?"

"We're at work."

She chuckles. "Yeah, Phil, I'm aware of that."

"And you're making out with me in your office."

"That's not making out, Phil. That's just a bit of nuzzling. Let me show you 'making out'." She cups his cheek and turns his face towards hers, then proceeds to kiss him until they're both breathless.

"Daisy," he groans, and she smirks.

"Now that, Phil, was 'making out'. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah," he says, his eyes glazed. "That – good job, Director."

She grins, then shifts so that she's straddling his lap, pressing her body tightly to his, and he moans quietly into her mouth as she begins kissing him again.

She finds herself amused when he seems to forget his concerns about them being in her office as his left hand slips under the tank she's wearing and slides up her back. She feels him trying to unfasten her pants, and pulls her mouth from his, laughing softly.

"I thought you were concerned about us being in my office?" she teases.

He snorts. "Knowing you, the door's locked anyway."

"Well it is after hours," she points out. "So yeah, I locked the door when I last came back from raiding the kitchen and brought us some snacks."

"In that case, then – " He clasps her hips and lifts her, and she allows him to get her pants fully open so he can insinuate a hand into her underwear and begin touching her.

"It's ages since we did this in here," he murmurs, and crooks his fingers in just the right way to give her immense pleasure.

"Months," she agrees, grazing her teeth along his stubble. "Been too busy to get frisky in here."

"Mmhmm."

An hour later, Daisy emails their 14 year old daughter, Tonia, back and gives her permission to go on a 'pizza date' with her girlfriend.


	10. I didn't mean to kiss you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Framework (written before 4:16): Coulson disappoints Daisy.

"I didn't mean to kiss you."

Daisy stares at Coulson in disbelief. "Really?" she asks, almost scornful, because that's the lamest thing he's ever said.

He blushes, which is something she'd find interesting in other circumstances. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his gaze on the ground.

"Why did you do it if you didn't mean it?" she asks. She's doing her best to maintain her anger because she doesn't want him to realise how hurt she is: she's loved Phil Coulson for a very long time, and while she knows he cares about her a great deal, she also knows he doesn't love her like that, and then he'd kissed her – very dramatically, like a superhero movie-style kiss, and for a moment she'd hoped – She cuts that line of thought off

"I – " He finally lifts his gaze from the ground and says softly, "I was so relieved you weren't dead after all."

She snorts. "So why not just hug me, like any other time?"

He bites his bottom lip, then shakes his head, his expression a mixture of guilt and pleading.

She snorts again, with considerably less sympathy this time, then says, "Whatever, Phil, we don't have time for this. I need to finish off Aida and Ivanov." She leans through the doorway of the room where the others are: Mack's helping Mace, who's still a mess after being beaten up by Ivanov's goons, and May's in an even worse state. Fitz – she swallows, wondering how Jemma's going to react to Fitz's death.

"You'd better help May get out of here," she tells him, turning her attention back to Coulson. "And send Elena and Piper in for Fitz."

He swallows, then nods, still a bit shamefaced. "Daisy – " He begins, and she shakes her head, but less unkindly this time.

"Help May," she repeats. "I need to get after Ivanov and Aida."

"Will you be all right?" he asks. His hand seems to twitch towards her, as if he's going to touch her arm, but he doesn't.

"They're only LMDs," she says. "I've killed their kind before." She makes herself walk away before he can say any more, swallowing down her hurt and regret: those emotions won't help her now – she needs to hang onto her anger at what Radcliffe and Aida have done to her friends.

She shoves her hurt feelings into the box in the back of her brain where she keeps all other such instances of people's carelessness over her feelings (and there have been far too many), and makes herself take several deep breaths – not to calm herself so much as to psyche herself up. She wants this over and done.


	11. I'm Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to the previous chapter ("I didn't mean to kiss you").

"I'm fine," Daisy says, trying to brush aside Coulson's concern, and his attempts to help her up.

"No you're not," he says gently. "C'mon Daisy, I know I was thoughtless and I hurt you, and you've every right to be mad at me, but let me help you, please."

It's the 'please' that does it – he sounds desperate – and looks it, too, she notices when she finally allows herself to look at his face. He's got a cut across his right eyebrow – because of course he has. (She wonders, not for the first time, why he always seems to get hit there, in particular.)

"Fine," she says, aware she sounds churlish, and wondering if Coulson will realise that it's far more to do with her physical state (exhaustion from the extensive use of her powers – on top of taking two GSW before she went into the Framework – and hunger, also from using her powers), than her emotional state.

He eases her up from the ground, hooking her arm around his shoulders in order to support some of her weight. "Mack and Elena are on their way," he tells her.

"How's Mace and May?" she asks, thinking they sound like some kind of double act: though not a comedy duo, clearly.

"Not looking too good," he says as they set off down the hallway. "Dr Simmons was very concerned about May in particular."

"And how did Jemma take the news about Fitz?"

"About as well as can be expected," he tells her. "Though I think she's finding it helpful to have May and Jeffery to worry about – for now, at least."

"Yeah." 

They're halfway to the Zephyr when Mack and Elena appear. Mack wants Daisy to be carried out on the stretcher he's brought, but she refuses point blank, and it's Elena who stops Mack's fussing, as Daisy thinks of it. 

"There's one favour you can do me, Mack," she says as they exit and begin making their final approach to the Z1. Daisy hopes they can't tell that she's about ready to drop by this point.

"Anything," he says instantly.

"Blow this place up," she tells him, and Mack's eyes go wide.

"Good idea," Coulson says from beside her. "Get Agents Piper and Davies to help you." He glances at Elena. "And Ms Rodriguez."

"If that's what you want?" Mack says, sounding a little doubtful.

"I want this place destroyed," Daisy says flatly, "so no one else can use it."

"Got it," Mack says, and he and Elena hurry on ahead to find the explosives, and to rope in Piper and Davies' assistance.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

When Daisy wakes up, some time later, it's to find herself in the Director's cabin – which she doesn't remember entering. She's still fairly exhausted and maybe a bit less sore, but the worst thing is how hungry she feels.

She rolls her head sideways on the pillow, and is only half-surprised to see Coulson in a chair beside the bed. He appears to be asleep but as she starts trying to push herself up, his eyes open and he quickly moves to assist her to sit up.

"Hey," he says.

"Time izzit?" she asks thickly.

"A little after 11."

"How's – " she starts.

"May and Jeffrey are stable," he tells her, not waiting for her to finish the question. "Dr Simmons thinks they'll make a full recovery in time. But they'll both be on sick leave for some time to come."

"Good."

"You must be hungry," he says, and she looks at him properly, hearing the concern in his voice.

"Yeah," she agrees. "Coulson, I'm not mad at you still."

"You should be," he says.

She grabs his wrist, and he looks at her, startled. "Don't tell me how I should feel, okay?"

He swallows and ducks his head. "I'm sorry, Daisy. I didn't mean it like that. That's – That's the last thing I'd ever want to do." He clasps his hand over the top of hers. "I just – I think you're too quick to forgive people – me. You're too quick to forgive me when I mess up. No one would blame you - _I_ wouldn't blame you, if you stayed mad at me."

She shakes her head. "What's the point? It doesn't achieve anything – and besides, enough people have hurt me over the years, since my earliest days in St Agnes, that I'd have spent my entire life furious." She's a bit surprised when he perches on the side of the bed to talk to her. 

"We don't deserve you," he says, sounding like he might cry at any minute.

"Tough luck," she says sharply. "You're stuck with me now."

That startles a shaky laugh out of him, and she lightly punches his shoulder. "Weren't you going to get me some food?"

"Yeah," he agrees, smiling softly now. "I can do that."

"Good, because I'm ravenous."

"I'll be back ASAP," he promises, and she watches him go out. She sighs, shakes her head, then resolves to forget about him kissing her. There's just no point in dwelling on it.


	12. How can anyone not be afraid of love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to the previous chapter: "I'm Fine" (which in itself is a sequel to the chapter before that "I didn't mean to kiss you").

"How can anyone not be afraid of love?"

Coulson's question follows a half hour of silence between him and Daisy as the two of them sit in an SUV outside the house of a man they suspect is tied to the Watchdogs. As stakeouts go, it's been fairly boring, but Daisy's glad to be out in the field for a bit again: with Mace still in bad shape after his experiences in the Framework, Talbot and the politicians had, very reluctantly, accepted Coulson's suggestion that he and Daisy take over as acting temporary (with much emphasis on the 'temporary') Co-Directors until Mace was fit to take over again. As a consequence they've spent the past week since she got (almost) everyone out of the Framework buried in reports and she was starting to get cabin fever. She isn't entirely sure, however, that this op is a good way to deal with her cabin fever – things have remained awkward between her and Coulson since he kissed her, despite her assurances that she's forgiven him.

"What happened to 'Feel the fear, and do it anyway'?" she asks lightly. "I've done that over and over and over again throughout my life."

"But you're much braver than I am," he says softly, and she snorts.

"Says the man who climbed into the wheelbase of the Bus to rescue me from Ward. Says the man who chased me down into the temple in San Juan, _knowing_ there were bombs down there that were about to go off – the man who had no weapons and no backup, but went down there anyway so I wouldn't have to die alone."

"But those were the right thing to do," he protests.

"And kissing me wasn't," she says flatly.

"Daisy." He sounds like he might cry, she thinks, and wonders why he's raking this up again.

"I thought we were past discussing this," she says, and hopes she doesn't sound too unkind.

"I thought so too. But I can't stop thinking about it. About how I hurt you, but also – " He swallows, the sound loud in the hush of the SUV. 

"Also?" she asks curiously.

"Also, how good it felt. How much I'd like to do it again – properly."

"Phil." She sighs his name a little despairingly.

"I know, I know. I'm being – "

She cuts him off in a more urgent tone. "Coulson. Movement." She bolts out of the SUV, leaving the door open so that the sound of it closing won't alert the Watchdog sleazebag, and runs quietly, stealthy as a cat, across the street. She can feel Coulson close behind her – senses the way his vibrations have changed now that they're focusing on the mission, not his feelings.

She carefully Quakes the guy, knocking him on his face, and in moments she's securing his wrists behind his back with a zip tie. 

She hears Coulson start to speak behind her, then his words are cut off abruptly, and she raises her head, her knee still in the small of the guy's back, and raises her right hand, only to find that Coulson's being held with his back tight against the chest of a second Watchdog who's basically using Coulson as a shield against Daisy's powers.

She curses silently, then lowers her hand.

"Up," snarls the guy holding Coulson, and she slowly gets to her feet.

She makes eye contact with Coulson, even though there's little in the way of street lighting here, and she gives him a tiny nod. He abruptly bends forward, startling his captor, who grunts as he's forcibly bent forward too, and Daisy sends a tightly focused burst of vibrations at the guy's shoulder, which is just powerful enough to throw him off balance and away from Coulson, who promptly turns and shoots him with an ICER.

She's turning back to the guy she took down even as he kicks out at her, and she fires another burst of vibrations at him, this time breaking his legs by way of discouraging him – he screams at the audible crack of his bones, but she feels no regrets.

"Now stay down," she says with a snarl. She's turning back towards Coulson when two shots ring out fast and sudden, and she bites back a cry of pain as she feels a bullet hit her left arm. She's already turning in the direction from which the shots were fired as she realises that Coulson's also been hit, and is down, clutching at his left calf. She can't see the shooter, but she sends a wave of vibrations across the street, which slams into several cars, setting off their alarms, and also throwing the man who was crossing the street towards them, backwards so that he slams into the wall of one of the buildings opposite.

She moves over to where Coulson's sprawled on the ground, bleeding far more heavily than she is, and she swears under her breath, then pulls out her cell and calls Mack for a medevac: her only consolation is that she and Coulson aren't too far from the base.

Then she shrugs off her leather jacket, pulls off the button down shirt she's wearing underneath, and starts tearing it into strips so she can make a tourniquet.

"Your shirt," Coulson protests weakly.

She rolls her eyes. "I can buy another shirt, Phil," she says. "You're not so replaceable."

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

"Daisy?" 

She's wakes with a quiet groan, deciding (not for the first time) that she really hates getting shot, and opens her eyes to discover she and Coulson are in adjoining beds in the Infirmary.

"Yeah?" She scrutinises him carefully, warily easing herself up one-armed into a sitting position. He looks pale and in pain, and she wonders why he hasn't had any painkillers.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Of course," she says.

"I love you. That's why I kissed you the other day."

Her eyes go wide and she stares at him. "Phil?"

"I just wanted you to know that before – well – you know, in case anything happens – " He breaks off abruptly as Daisy slithers off the side of her bed and, ignoring her dizziness and dragging her IV stand with her, moves over to his bed. "Daisy?"

"I love you too, Phil," she says, and bends down to kiss him very thoroughly until they're both breathless – which is sooner than she'd like, sadly.

" _Oh_ ," he breathes, and it's obviously a revelation to him.

"And nothing's gonna happen to you," she says. "Well, nothing except more kissing, and some cuddling when I've got both arms working again."

"And more than kissing and cuddling?" he asks in a tiny, hopeful sort of voice.

She snickers. "When you and I have both been declared medically fit, yes."

"Okay," he says softly.

"Softie," she says, and he flushes, then bites his bottom lip, and she can't resist kissing him again.

She just hopes their recovery time isn't going to be too long.


	13. You're too young to hate the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future Fic: A quiet moment for newly established Cousy.

"You're too young to hate the world," Phil says gently, and Daisy can't help rolling her eyes at him just a little.

"I didn't say I hated the world, Phil. I just hate having to spend so much of my time fighting large chunks of it."

He sighs. "I know." His voice is soft and his expression's sad, and Daisy reaches for his hand across the desk and squeezes it.

"Hey, I've been fighting the world pretty much all my life. I'm not gonna stop now."

He covers her hand with his other one, and she thinks about how far he's come, that he no longer minds touching her with his prosthetic hand.

"But you shouldn't have to."

She rolls her eyes again. "Phil," she says in a tone of gentle remonstrance. "Everyone has to fight the world – that's part of being alive."

He sighs again. "I know." 

She thinks he'd much prefer it if they didn't have to fight the world, or if he could do it for her. It's a nice sentiment, but unrealistic.

He squeezes her hand gently between both of his, then releases it and gets to his feet.

"I'm off to that meeting."

"Forget something?" she asks, smiling.

"Yes." He bends over and kisses her gently on her forehead.

"I meant your pen." She offers it to him. "But thank you," she whispers.

He's blushing, she notices, and is mildly amused – they've only been together a few weeks, and they're still navigating their relationship, both in terms of Daisy being his boss now that she's Director of SHIELD, and in terms of keeping it on the down low – it's not a secret, but they're trying to be discreet all the same. Even if, as Mack recently asserted, they're SHIELD's worst kept secret.

"Thanks," he says.

She gets to her feet, and he raises an eyebrow, then smirks when she loops her arms loosely around his neck. "You're the best boyfriend I ever had," she tells him, knowing he'll roll his eyes at 'boyfriend' because – he argues – he's too old to be called her 'boyfriend', but since he's a very youthful 55, Daisy still likes to call him that.

He does roll his eyes, then embraces her. "You deserve the best," he tells her – something he's been telling her, in one way or another, for almost as long as she's known him.

"Mmm." She brushes her lips against his. "Now go and be the best Human-Inhuman Advocate I have," she tells him.

He chuckles. "Yes ma'am." He raises his eyebrows at her, expectantly, and she rolls her eyes yet again, then kisses him, quick and hard, before gently pushing him away.

"Get out of here, Phil, or you'll be late, and we know how much Glenn hates that."

He chuckles again, sketches a salute, then heads out, and Daisy shakes her head, sits down, then pulls her keyboard towards her: she has a ton of work to do, as always. 

But as she brings up the first report to read, she can't help smiling fondly at the way he'd kissed her forehead. He's such a sap, and she loves him for it. She's not sure she deserves him, but she'd never say that aloud in front of him.

Then she banishes her smile and makes herself focus on Agent Piper's latest field report. She doesn't have time to wallow in thoughts of Phil's romantic sappiness, pleasant as that would be.


	14. If you want, we can go together; Or 5 Ways to Say I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times, starting in S2, when Phil tells Daisy he loves her - without saying those actual words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @becketted on Tumblr, because she put the idea into my head a couple of days ago. (Rated Explicit for sexual content)

**[1]**

"If you want, we could go together?"

 _How does he do that?_ Daisy wonders. How does Phil Coulson always know when she needs his support. No one else has managed it, not so consistently and regularly as he does.

"I'd like that," she says gratefully, and he smiles at her, squeezes her upper arm briefly, then gestures at the door, and she goes out, aware that his hand is hovering at the small of her back, as if he wants to touch her some more, but doesn't quite dare. It's a familiar gesture, like the arm squeeze, and she thinks that he might be the most decent man she knows. 

They head down the hallway together, only separating so they can go to their quarters to grab an overnight bag. She'll admit, she's nervous about going to see Cal – Dr Winslow as she must learn to call him now. It's been a few weeks since he went through the TAHITI program and she just wants to check in on him, make sure that it's holding – she suspects her worries are irrational, but given what happened to Coulson, she thinks she can be forgiven for her concerns. And Coulson himself doesn't seem to mind – or think she's being irrational.

She heads through the hangar to where the SUVs are parked, and is surprised when Coulson beckons to her from beside Lola. She's even more surprised when he holds out the keys on the palm of his hand.

"You're letting me drive Lola?" she asks in a disbelieving whisper.

"Well I can't," he says, slightly lifting his arm, in its sling, off his chest.

"I know, but – well, I just figured we'd take an SUV."

He shakes his head, smiling. "Are you saying you _don't_ want to drive Lola?"

"I want, I want," she says quickly and almost snatches the keys from him. 

He chuckles, then leans over and pops the trunk, and she puts their bags inside, then they climb into the car.

She smoothes her hands gently over the steering wheel. "Hello beautiful," she whispers, then she starts her up, puts her in gear then, flashing a laughing smile over at Coulson in the passenger seat, she pulls out and heads out onto the street. Her trip to see her father suddenly seems a bit less daunting now.

**[2]**

"Come home safe."

Phil's words make Daisy smile briefly as she heads up the ramp into the Zephyr3: they've become a ritual, almost – something he always says to her when she's heading out on a mission and he's not coming too. She can still clearly remember the first time he said them, when she was going off to fight HYDRA for Charles Hinton, and the way she'd squeezed his shoulder when what she'd really wanted to do was kiss him. At the time she'd suspected that he'd have liked to have kissed her, or hugged her at the very least, but they were both being terribly professional – and they hadn't yet admitted their feelings for each other. They were also, she's fairly sure, pretty terrified thanks to the vision Daisy had had of Phil shooting her, not knowing at the time that she'd actually seen him shooting a reflection of her.

They've been together for a year now: Daisy's the Director of SHIELD – the first ever Inhuman Director, but not, she hopes, the last. Phil, meanwhile, is her co-Director and in charge of 'Optics', managing SHIELD's public image, and although he often accompanies her on field missions, today he's got a meeting with the President, and since she has the ultimate say on SHIELD's funding, Phil has to go and see her even though Daisy knows he'd rather be running backend for her mission.

As she strides into the Command Centre of the Zephyr, greeting her waiting team of Inhuman and human agents, she silently wishes him luck with his funding meeting, knowing he'll be mentally wishing her luck with her mission. And yes, she plans to come home safe.

**[3]**

"It's not your fault," Phil tells her, and Daisy refrains from rolling her eyes at him.

"I'm pretty sure it is my fault," she says. "I mean, I'm the one who quaked you across the gym and into the wall bars, breaking – " She squints at them. "four of them, and cracking your ulna."

"Daisy," he says softly.

"Phil," she sighs. He's been telling her that things aren't her fault for years, and mostly it's true (like when she was Swayed by Hive and tried to kill Mack and Phil, and brought down a chunk of the roof of the hangar), but sometimes it's not true.

She bends down and scoops him up from the floor, even though he's quite capable of walking.

"Daisy?"

"Yeah, Phil?"

"What're you doing? I can walk."

She chuckles. "I know Phil, but admit it, you _love_ it when I carry you bridal-style."

He blushes, and she's always charmed when he does that. "You promised never to mention my secret shame," he observes in a small voice.

She laughs softly. "Don't worry, Phil, your secret's safe with me." She brushes her lips against his temple, then carries him into the Infirmary.

Jemma Simmons looks up, her expression full of concern, and Phil immediately says, "It's fine, Dr Simmons. Daisy's just being dramatic."

She laughs again, then sets him down on his feet. "Phil's right," she tells Jemma. "I was just messing around. He's got a cracked ulna in his right arm."

Jemma winces, then guides Phil over to a scanner. "Dare I ask how it happened?" she asks.

"I quaked him across the gym while we were sparring," she says. "Broke four of the wall bars, and cracked his arm bone." She sighs. "I'll get Mack to see about putting some padding on the wall bars, or possibly taking them down – I don't think anyone's used them since Peggy Carter's days."

"Taking them down might be the safer option," Phil agrees.

"Not quaking your Co-Director into them might be the safest option of all," Jemma observes.

Daisy snorts. "Yeah, I know that, but we were sparring, so you know."

Jemma just shakes her head before bending over the scanner's screen and Daisy meets Phil's eyes. He pokes out his tongue, and she rolls her own eyes – she knows he's trying to make her laugh because she knows he knows that she's feeling guilty about getting him hurt. Maybe it's time to set up a separate room for her to train in – with padding on all the walls, and possibly the ceiling too, just to make sure. She'll have to talk to Mack about it, she decides.

**[4]**

"We should probably get started," Phil says, and Daisy smirks at him, which elicits a puzzled frown. 

He probably doesn't realise that she finds those five words pretty sexy: the first time he used that phrase he went on to show her how the GH-325 was affecting him – making him carve weird alien symbols on the wall of his office. She associates them with the beginning of the even closer relationship they developed that year as a consequence of everything that led to her gaining her powers and having her Inhuman DNA unlocked. Besides, the idea of them doing things together – even before they were lovers – but separately from the others has always made her feel special.

"Isn't that a bit formal, in the circumstances, Phil?" she teases. She's lying naked on their bed, and he's just come out of the shower, and is wearing a bathrobe – why he put that on afterwards she can't imagine.

He flushes, and drops his gaze, and she sits up, then crawls down the bed and grabs his upper arms as she kneels at the foot of the bed. "Hey, I was teasing," she says softly.

"I know," he says, lifting his head to look at her. "I guess I'm just a bit nervous."

She smirks. "It's not like we've never had sex before, Phil."

His blush deepens. "We've never had unprotected sex with the intention of trying to have a child before," he points out.

"And that makes you nervous?" She guesses she can understand that – hell, she's a bit nervous herself – not at the thought of the planned fucking, but at the idea of becoming a mother, because after adopting two Inhuman children, they've decided they'd like to have one together.

"A bit," he admits. "I'm 55 years old, Daisy – which is not a young age at which to have a family."

"You've got a family, Phil. You know that Andrew and Antonia both regard you as their father, despite the racial differences."

"I know," he says quickly. "That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant," she assures him. "And while I understand your concerns, I think you're worrying unnecessarily." She slides her hands up his arms to clasp his shoulders and pushes herself up on her knees so they're face to face. "Don't worry about making a baby, just concentrate on giving your superhero wife a good time, and with luck Mother Nature will do the rest."

He smirks. "I reckon I can manage that, at least," he says.

"Good boy." She begins kissing him, even as her right hand slips inside the bathrobe that she's just tugged open, and he moans into her mouth as she begins stroking his half-hard cock.

Once he's fully hard, she throws herself backwards on the bed, legs spread wide, and gives him her most seductive look. "C'mon Phil, show me your moves."

He chuckles, and climbs carefully onto the bed, then crawls up it until his body's hovering over hers. "You're so gorgeous," he whispers, then he guides his dick into her slick heat and she tugs his body down onto hers before he begins to thrust.

**[5]**

"Welcome home, Agent Johnson."

Phil's voice and expression are soft and loving, and she smiles up at him tiredly as she's wheeled into the house. It seems strange no longer being called Director Johnson, but she'd decided it was more practical all round if she stepped down – she's going to be out of action, probably for months, and it's silly to try to go on being the Director.

She can remember the first time he'd greeted her like that – after she'd got herself back to the Playground following Andrew's intervention to save her from being Swayed by Hive – she'd been a wreck then, too, although at least this time she's in her own mind and not suffering from withdrawals or anything awful of that kind.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

She'd shrug, but it'd hurt too much. "Like I went 5 rounds with the Other Guy after Banner lost control."

He winces, then looks at Jemma as she comes in. "What's the recommended course of action, Dr Simmons?"

"Well, as little 'action' as possible for the next few weeks, at least, I'm afraid." 

Daisy scowls half-heartedly, although she already knows this – Jemma went over it with her before releasing her from the Infirmary.

"The good news is that Daisy heals quickly thanks to her Inhuman DNA. The bad news is that there's a lot to heal, and some of the breaks are pretty ugly, so although she'll heal quicker than either of us would, it's still not going to be a quick recovery."

"Can I carry her?" Phil asks hesitantly.

"As little as possible. You'll have to lift her in and out of bed and the wheelchair, and on and off the toilet. I recommend only sponge baths for the first two weeks as she won't be able to stand up long enough to shower."

Daisy's tempted to say something darkly mordant about maybe putting her in a hole in the ground instead, but she knows it'll upset Phil, so she bites her bottom lip and keeps her terrible sense of humour to herself.

"If you need any help, day or night, call my cell," Jemma concludes.

Phil nods, and Jemma gently squeezes the top of Daisy's left shoulder. "I'll see you next week, Daisy, for your checkups."

"Yeah. Thanks Jemma."

"Take care," Jemma says, and heads outside with the medics, and Phil crouches in front of the wheelchair.

"I'm glad you're home," he says softly.

"Me too," she agrees. She doesn't tell him that she doesn't consider this ground floor apartment to be home – it's not the home she and Phil have shared for the last several years, bringing up their family, because that place would be totally unsuitable for someone in her current medical condition. Thankfully the children are old enough not to need constant care – in fact Antonia and Andrew are both away, in their first and second years of their degree programs, respectively. And the eight year old twins, Calvin and Jiaying, are staying with Mack and Elena and their two children.

"I'd better get you to bed," he says and begins pushing the chair along the hallway to the bedroom.

"I wish we could go to bed together," she says, and his prosthetic fingers brush lightly against the nape of her neck.

"So do I," he tells her. 

She sighs softly, hoping he won't hear, and mentally curses the asshole – an anti-Inhuman scientist – who did this to her. The fact that he killed himself at the same as breaking a huge number of her bones is small consolation – she'd have preferred to see him tried under the new legislation that's been brought in to protect her and her people from this kind of thing.

Once in the bedroom, Phil carefully lifts her from the wheelchair and positions her on the bed. "I'll do everything I can to make time pass more quickly," he promises, and she nods.

"Yeah, Phil, I know." 

"What can I do for you first of all?"

"Lie beside me and hold my hand?" she asks hopefully.

He hesitates for only a moment, before nodding, then he takes off his shoes, and circles the bed to lie down next to her. She can tell that he'd been on the verge of asking if she was sure, and she's grateful that he hadn't – she doesn't want him second guessing her or mollycoddling her.

He clasps her hand in his and turns his head to press his lips lightly to her temple. "I'm so sorry you got hit like this," he says softly.

She sighs. "Perils of the job," she says.

"Mmm."

She wonders if he's thinking that it might be time for her to give up on fieldwork. She's not gonna lie, while she'd been lying immobilised in plaster in the Infirmary, she'd considered it – but she'd rejected the idea: if she doesn't go out there and do her damnedest to stop the bad guys, other agents will, and they could wind up dead, not merely out of action, and while she has breath in her body, she will not give up trying to kick the bad guys' asses.

"After Jemma declares me 100% fit, I want to go away for a few days – just me and you, initially."

"Oh?" His expression's gone from pensive to speculative, and she smirks. 

"Yeah, Phil, I'm talking about taking a break to fuck you senseless."

He laughs, clearly delighted. "That sounds like an excellent plan, Agent."

"I thought you'd think so. It'll be your reward for putting up with me in the interim."

"Okay, first, I'm not 'putting up with you' – there's no 'putting up with' involved. You know this, Daisy. And second, I'm your husband, of course I'm going to look after you. I don't need to be rewarded for that. That said, if you want a few days away so we can shag ourselves silly, then I'm your man."

Daisy chokes on laughter. "'Shag ourselves silly'? Wherever did you dig that up, Phil?"

He snorts. "Hunter, way back when."

"I might have known," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Do you need anything?" he asks.

"Just you, right now. I'll let you know if I need anything else."

"Okay." He gives her hand a careful squeeze, and she squeezes it back.

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A little over six weeks later, Daisy insists on carrying Phil bridal-style over the threshold of the beach front house they're renting for the next ten days – half of which will be spent here alone, the other half will be spent with their children.

"You're a dork," he tells her as she carries him into their bedroom.

She snorts. "Sure, Phil, and you're not."

"Never said I wasn't," he says in a sing-song tone that makes her giggle. 

She tosses him into the middle of the bed, startling a yelp out of him, then she kicks off her sandals before climbing onto the foot of the bed and proceeding to strip him. 

"Fuck, Daisy," he mutters once she's got him naked.

"Any second now, Phil, I promise," she reassures him, and standing with her feet either side of his knees, she proceeds to strip off her own clothes – not that it takes long since she's only wearing a sundress and a thong. She poses for him a bit once she's naked.

"What d'you think, Phil? See anything you like?" she asks.

He curls his hand around the base of his cock, idly rubbing the pad of his thumb against his balls. "Yeah," he agrees quietly. "Now c'mere."

She chuckles, then kneels down, and he reaches for her eagerly. She understands his eagerness – it matches her own. Her recovery has been long and at times very painful, and it's a huge relief to have been declared fit finally. She positions herself, still on her knees, over Phil's groin, and he sits up, then helps to guide his cock into her, before kissing her deeply.

"Okay?" she asks when he releases her mouth.

"Very," he responds, and she smiles, then starts to rock slowly back and forth, tightening her inner muscles around his dick.

This first time she plans to take things slow. Later, though, it's gonna get a bit fast and furious.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you, too."


	15. Can I open my eyes yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future Fic. It's Director Daisy Johnson's birthday, and Phil's brought two friends to the Playground to help her celebrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Mature

"Can I open my eyes yet?" Daisy asks, and Coulson chuckles.

"Almost," he says. He hears her sigh in a long-suffering way that he suspects is fake, then feels her relax a little more despite the fact she couldn't see where he was leading her, her body leaning back a little more against the arm he's got wrapped around her upper back as he guides her through the halls of the Playground.

"Stop here," he says quietly, and she does, then he shifts so he's standing beside her: he wants to see her expression when she sees the surprise he's arranged for her. "Now you can open your eyes."

She does, and the effect of his surprise is everything he'd hoped for, and more: her jaw drops, and she clutches at his right arm so tightly he suspects there'll be fingermarks on his skin, then she claps her hands over her mouth as tears come into her eyes.

"Phil," she gasps, and he grins, feeling tears pricking at his own eyes. 

"Happy birthday, Daisy."

She hurries forward, toward the two waiting figures, and the younger of the pair rushes to meet her.

"Ace! Mike!" she exclaims, and hugs them both, one arm around each, and they hug her back, Ace already talking rapidly, and Coulson smiles in pleasure at their mutual delight in seeing each other.

He's just thinking of sneaking away and leaving them to it when Daisy turns and her eyes beckon him closer. He moves into her vicinity, and she lets go of Mike and Ace so she can wrap her arms around him instead.

"Thank you so much, Phil," she whispers against his ear, then he feels her lips brush the side of his face, and he bites the inside of his cheek, feeling guilty for wanting more.

"We've come to take you out to lunch," Mike tells her, and she slowly disentangles herself from Coulson.

"That'll be brilliant," she says happily. "Now?"

Mike nods, and Daisy grins, then slips her arm through Coulson's. "Let's go, then."

"Oh no, hang on," he says – he had no intention of going with them, but Daisy gives him a look, as if she can't believe he'd refuse her anything today, of all days, so he subsides and lets her lead them out of the Playground, her arm still casually looped through his, as if this is something she does every day. 

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They have a very enjoyable lunch, then go for a walk away from prying ears, so that they can talk with Mike in a bit more detail about the work they're currently doing, and Coulson, at Daisy's instigation, and backed up by Ace's curiosity, finds himself comparing his prosthetic arm to Mike's – of course, Mike's can fire missiles, which Coulson's cannot, for which he's devoutly grateful.

He and Daisy see Mike and Ace off around 7pm, then they head back to the Playground where Phil makes them a light supper that they eat in Daisy's office. It used to be his, of course, and was Jeffrey Mace's after that, but these days it's Daisy's, and he cannot pretend he doesn't enjoy spending time in there – although the truth is that anywhere Daisy is to be found is somewhere that he enjoys being.

"Thank you so much for today, Phil," she says when they finish eating and they're drinking coffee on the couch in the corner of her office.

"You're welcome," he tells her, giving her a sleepy, satisfied smile.

"You realise, of course, that you've set the bar very high for how I'm going surprise you in 6 days time?"

"What? No!" he says immediately. "Daisy, you know you don't have to do – "

She places her index across his lips. "Phil," she says, her tone almost stern. "Of course I don't _have_ to, but you're my best friend, and the closest thing I've got to family, so I want to."

He sighs, and she removes her finger, then she leans in and kisses him lightly. "Daisy?"

"Oh sorry, was I supposed to wait for you to give the birthday girl a kiss?" she asks, her tone teasing, but her expression intense.

"Well, that is traditional," he says, wondering if she knows how much his heart is thumping in his chest out of fear and excitement.

She arches her eyebrows at him, and he chuckles softly, then reaches out and cups the back of her neck with his right hand. He draws her closer, then presses his lips to hers.

"Really, Phil?" she murmurs against his mouth. "I was so sure Agent Charm School could do better – "

He cuts off the rest of her sentence, and she kisses him back eagerly once he begins kissing her properly. He's not entirely sure this is the wisest move, but at the same time, he knows that they've been pretty much on the brink of this since they first met. 

She moves to sit on his lap, without breaking the kiss, which is pretty impressive, he thinks – but then again, Daisy's always been impressive.

"You're thinking too much, Phil," she mutters, and slips her right hand between their bodies to cup his burgeoning erection through his pants.

"Shouldn't we take this somewhere else?" he suggests.

"Let's," she agrees immediately, and he tries not to whine as she slides off his lap, he likes the weight of her body on his a little too much, he thinks.

She holds out her hand, and he takes it, then lets her lead him the short distance along the hall to her quarters.

As she closes and locks the door behind them, he turns and smiles at her. "I know what I want to do for my birthday," he tells her, and she cocks an enquiring eyebrow. "A weekend away – just the two of us."

"Well, Agent Coulson, it just so happens I'm tight with the Director so I can probably fix that for you." Daisy's smirk is glorious, and he can't help pinning her to the door and kissing her until they're both breathless and desperately aroused.

"That's good, Daisy," he tells her when he finally pulls away and lets her lead him to her bed. "Very good."

"I'm glad you think so, Agent." She stops near the bed, then asks, in an entirely serious tone, "You want this?"

"God, Daisy, I've wanted you forever."

She nods. "Then why don't you wish me a happy birthday, Phil?"

He smirks, then quickly begins undressing her. "Happy birthday, Daisy."


	16. What are you doing in my house?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Framework, Daisy helps Phil recover his memories of their time in SHIELD together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Mature

"What are you doing in my house?" Coulson demands in a stage whisper as he enters his kitchen to find her waiting there.

Daisy manages not to roll her eyes, but it's not easy. This version of Coulson might have remembered her name, but he hasn't remembered much else yet, and it's both proving hard work to get him to remember, and making her deeply anxious that it's taking so long. She has a horrible feeling that time is running out, and she really needs Phil Coulson to be fully on board.

"You really want a HYDRA agent accosting you in the school parking lot?" she asks, then feels a bit guilty for how much paler he goes. She dares to step into his space and touches his arm.

"I'm sorry, Coulson," she says softly. "I'm not trying to frighten or intimidate you, I swear. I just – I need your help."

"Because I'm the one you come to when things get heavy," he says, repeating her words of the day before. He sounds sceptical, she thinks, but she nods anyway.

"Yeah." 

He sighs. "How can I help, though? I can't remember anything clearly."

"I've been thinking about that," she says. "If you'll let me I'll use a technique that a good friend used to help me."

"You're going to hypnotise me?" he asks in a flat tone.

She gives him a weak smile. "Sort of."

"Where do you want to do this?"

"Best if we do it somewhere that you feel comfortable and safe." He flushes a bit, biting his bottom lip, and she touches his arm again. "Phil?"

"Upstairs," he says. "In – in my bedroom."

"Okay." She gestures for him to precede her, and he leads the way – she's already scouted the place, of course, while she was waiting for him to get home from school, and she knows which is his room, but she doesn't want him to think she was spying on him – even if that's exactly what she was doing.

As they head up the stairs she has a brief moment of wondering how Jemma's making out with Mack, then she focuses her attention back on Phil.

He takes off his shoes and tweed jacket, then crosses to the bed, and she gets him to lie at one side so she can sit beside him on the stool she brings over from in front of the vanity. 

She uses a memory recollection technique that Andrew had used with her once in another time and place that feels horribly distant right now. (She tries not to wonder if Andrew's here in the Framework – if he and May are together.)

She's not sure if the technique will actually work on someone who's basically a computer program masquerading as a man, but she starts him at the moment when they first met: the moment when the scary man in the dark suit flung open the side of her van before a far scarier man in a suit put a bag over her head, and slowly brings him forward, helping him to remember everything they've been through together.

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It's nearly midnight by the time Daisy brings back his memory of the mission on which they met Ivanov, and she's exhausted – although probably not as exhausted as Phil. When he opens his eyes and looks at her, it's 'her' Phil looking up at her, and when he says, "Oh Daisy", in that familiar soft voice she can't quite manage to hold back tears. Moments later, they're cuddling together on his bed, and while she thinks she should be worried about that, she's actually hugely relieved to have him back, to know that he knows both who she is, and who he is.

It's a surprise, though, when he kisses her, his mouth hot and hungry on hers, and a tiny part of her thinks she should stop him, but a larger part knows that she won't, and she kisses him back with a similar sort of relief and desperation combined.

When his hands fumble at her belt, though, she has to stop him at least for a few moments so they can talk. She wraps her hands over his and draws them up against his chest.

"What is this, Phil?" she asks. She has to ask because she needs to be sure he really knows what he's doing – because this isn't like him, like them, and while it's true she's pretty much been pining for him since day one, she'd never expected to go down this route, and she certainly never imagined he'd be the one to initiate it.

He's breathing heavily, his chest heaving, and he looks a little wild – though not in a dangerous way. "I want you, Daisy," he says, his voice husky. "I've wanted you for so long, and this might be the only chance we get before things go to hell in a handcart. And I'm done wasting time." He looks at her, his blue eyes a bit hazy with lust, but definitely still her Phil.

She swallows hard. "Well, when you put it like that," she says, trying to keep it light.

He smirks, and suddenly she knows this is very definitely 'her' Phil. "C'mon then," he says, and his hands go back to her belt.

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They don't get much sleep that night, but Daisy does manage about 3 hours, with Phil's body pressed to her back, and his arms wrapped around her middle. She wakes with his cock hard against her ass, and she feels a rush of desire all over again. If this is the only chance that she and Phil will ever get to do this, she knows she'll always be grateful for the memory of how tender and how passionate he could be – often at the same moment.

She shifts in his arms, knowing he'll wake at the movement, and smirks when he gives her a long, slow, sexy smile as soon as he opens his own eyes. He rolls her onto her back and hitches his leg over both of hers, effectively pinning her to the bed, and she pulls his head down to kiss him hungrily, before they make love.

She doesn't know what today or the rest of their time in the Framework will bring, but at least they've had this.


	17. Please don't make me socialise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag for 4:04: Phil takes care of Daisy after their meeting over fireworks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Explicit

"Please don't make me socialise."

Daisy's quiet plea when Coulson finds her – he doesn't want to say hiding, but he suspects she is – up in the Quinjet cuts through his joy and relief at having her back, and he reminds himself there's no guarantee that she's going to stay after they find the Darkhold (assuming they can), so he shouldn't rejoice too much.

"Of course not," he says reassuringly, and briefly brushes his fingertips against her arm. "Why don't you come down to the Director's cabin, and I'll fix you something to eat? Robbie's talking engines with Mack, so I think he'll be happy enough downstairs."

She gives him a grateful smile, and he leads the way off one plane and onto the other. He'd like to wrap his arm around her shoulders but he fears that would be too much pressure – and besides, it's not something they do. Yes, they've shared the occasional hug, but that's been a sort of 'heat of the very intense moment' thing. Part of him wishes they'd had more, but the rest of him is grateful they didn't because her absence during the past few months would've been even harder to bear. (Not that he begrudges her leaving: he knows very well that Daisy did what she felt she had to do, not only to protect her team here after she was Swayed by Hive, but also to try to protect her own people, her fellow Inhumans, from the consequences of the Sokovia Accords).

As he ushers her into the cabin, his hand hovering at the small of her back, it occurs to him that she's probably never been in here before.

"What do you want to eat?" he asks, gesturing her at a chair.

"I don't mind," she says, shrugging, and because he knows Daisy, and knows how she doesn't assert what she wants or needs, he doesn't push her to be more specific.

Instead he nods, then says, "I'll see what's available."

"Thanks, Phil."

He briefly touches her shoulder. "If you feel like you need a nap," he says, and gestures at the doorway that leads to his sleeping quarters, "there's a bed through there."

She looks shocked, and he supposes it might be an inappropriate offer, but he's just thinking of her well being, he swears. "Thanks," she says, "I'm good."

"Okay." He knows his voice and his expression are too soft, that his relief at having her back, and his longing to have her stay must be bleeding out of him, but he can't seem to hold it all in.

He turns away and takes a deep breath, then says, "I'll be back soon."

"Okay."

He gives a choppy nod, then lets himself out.

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After Phil disappears, Daisy casts one longing look at the doorway that leads to a bed, then resolutely turns herself in the chair so she can't see it. She's not quite sure what to make of Phil right now – his obvious relief and pleasure at having her back, even if it's only temporary (and she very much appreciates the fact that he's told her she doesn't have to stay if she doesn't want to), is both warming, and a bit scary. Not because Phil's scary – he couldn't be – but because it unnerves her that he so obviously wants her around despite everything that happened, despite everything she did, especially to him.

After about 5 minutes of sitting and brooding, and ignoring his too-inviting bed (she feels like she could sleep for three days solid), she gets to her feet and walks across to the bookcase on the other side of the room. It's packed with paperbacks – obviously well-read, but equally obviously cared for – and she crouches down to take a closer look at his reading choices.

She picks up a battered copy of Saul Alinsky's _Rules for Radicals_ , and settles crosslegged on the floor by the bookcase for a re-read.

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When Coulson walks back into his bunk half an hour later, he has a moment of panic because Daisy's nowhere in sight, then he hears movement and turns to see her getting up from the floor, a paperback book in her hands.

"Hey," she says it softly, and her expression is a little wary, as if she thinks he'll tell her off for borrowing a book in his absence.

"Hey," he says. He nods at the little table in the corner and sets down the tray he's brought for her. "There wasn't a lot of food available – Mack and I were due another grocery supplies run, but events overtook us."

She inhales. "Did you make me your secret recipe grilled cheese again, Phil?" she asks, her tone shy but hopeful, and he chuckles softly.

"I seem to remember you enjoyed it last time I made it," he says.

"I did." She crosses the room to his side, and he's a little surprised when she leans into him, but he dares to put his arm around her and squeeze her carefully against him, just for a moment, before he lets go.

"Dig in, then," he tells her.

"Thank you." She sits down, and he sees her take in the fact there are two grilled cheese sandwiches, plus a bowl of salad that he threw together, and a small bowl of potato chips. "Is that a chocolate milkshake?" she asks, spotting the tall glass.

"It is. With a twist."

She chuckles then, and he bites his bottom lip, fighting off his urge to lean down and kiss her. "You're the best friend I've ever had," she says, and reaches for the milkshake.

He feels his face flush, and is glad she's not looking at him or she might wonder just why her 52 year old former boss is blushing like a schoolboy.

"Thank you," he says. He'd like to reassure her that he feels the same way, but he suspects she wouldn't believe him. He takes the other chair.

"Hey, this milkshake's great!" She sounds quite surprised, and he can't resist teasing her a bit.

"You were expecting it not to be?" 

She sniggers like a small child, which makes him grin. "No, I expected it to be good, I just didn't know it'd be this good. The orange gives it a real zing."

"I'm glad you approve."

She wrinkles her nose at him, then attacks her food with gusto, and he sets down the tablet he'd shown to her and Robbie earlier, and tries to figure out their next moves.

Within a surprisingly short time Daisy's demolished her meal, and is looking sleepy but satisfied, and Coulson smiles at her as he gets to his feet to return the tray and crockery to the gallery. She stands up too, then surprises him by stepping into his personal space and wrapping her arms around him. 

"Thank you, Phil," she says softly, then surprises him even more by pressing her lips to his. Surprised he might be, but his unconscious brain, at least, knows how to respond, and he finds himself kissing her back without making a decision to do so.

She teases his mouth open, then draws the tip of her tongue across the roof of his mouth, and he groans, tightening his arms around her as his body seems to throb with desire.

"About that bed," she says when she finally releases his mouth.

"Yes?" he asks, breathless and eager, and achingly hard.

"Perhaps we could find another use for it?"

"I'd like that," he says immediately.

Somehow they make it into the sleeping quarters, and within a couple of minutes he finds himself naked and lying on his back, his cock feeling hot and heavy as she strokes it. "Daisy."

"Phil." She kneels over him, holding the base of his cock, then sinks down, and they both moan as he stretches and fills her tight, wet channel. "Fuck."

"Yeah," he agrees, breathless all over again.

"You feel so good," she whispers.

"You too," he assures her.

She leans down and kisses him, before beginning to rock backwards and forwards.

He clasps her hips, sure she's about to take him on one hell of a ride.


	18. There's blood on my hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Framework: Daisy's running Secret Warriors 2.0. Phil gets injured during an op, and it brings them even closer together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Explicit

"There's blood on my hands."

"There's blood on both our hands," Daisy replies, and wonders if Coulson's going into shock: he seems captivated, of all things, by the blood on their hands after he got shot by an asshole who was trying to take her down.

"C'mon, Phil, snap out of it," she says sharply, because she needs him focused, not fascinated.

He swallows, then whispers. "Sorry, Daisy."

"Don't be," she says, and kisses his forehead, a gesture which seems to surprise him as much as it does her – since when does she go around kissing fellow agents on the forehead, she thinks. Well, since the agent in question is Phil Coulson, the man she's loved secretly and hopelessly for years.

She opens a couple of the pouches on her utility built, glad that the latter's been redesigned to hold more stuff for when she's in the field. She takes out some wipes to get the blood off her hands before she tries to start dressing the wound, and she wipes the excess off Coulson's upper left arm so she can see what she's doing. She drops a couple of the wipes into his right hand so he can clean up his own hands – hoping that he'll be able to focus better without the sight of blood on his hands.

She gets the wound cleaned and dressed, and yes, no longer having blood on his own hands helps Coulson to concentrate so that he can assist her as she's never had to dress a bullet wound in the field before.

"Okay," she says, helping him up from the ground. "Let's get the hell out of Dodge."

He stumbles a bit, which she guesses is either shock or blood loss, or both – she's not a doctor, so she's not sure, but the fact is that he's unsteady on his feet, so she ducks under his right arm, and wraps her left around his torso to support some of his weight and keep him steady.

"Okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," he says, but his heart rate's increased, he's breathless, and his vibrations are 'off' –which is not something she can explain to anyone who doesn't have her powers.

"Right," she says firmly. "We need to get you somewhere safe to recover.

"Daisy, I'm – "

"Don't tell me you're fine, Phil," she says, almost snapping at him with exasperation – not that she really has room to be mad at him for minimising his injuries when she still does the same thing. "Vibrations don't lie."

He swallows, and the sound seems absurdly loud in the echoing silence. "Sorry."

"God." She stops them both walking for a moment and scrubs her free hand over her face a moment. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to snap."

"It's okay," he says gently. "You're stressed. It's understandable."

"Yeah." She sighs. "It's probably gonna be a couple of hours before Mack can get to us. I knew we should've brought a backup team."

"Daisy." This time Coulson's tone is stern, almost Director-ish, and she gives him a rueful look. 

"Hindsight, huh?"

He chuckles weakly, then can't quite hide a wince. "Yeah."

"Okay." Her tone's decisive now. "I'm going to borrow a vehicle and get us away from here. I can't believe the authorities haven't descended on us yet, but since they haven't – "

"Yeah."

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Some three hours later they're about a hundred miles away, in another state altogether, and Coulson's just stirring into life in the back seat of the suburban family car she 'borrowed': she'd made him as comfortable as she could in the back: her field suit jacket's folded under his head, and her utility belt is on the seat by his feet so that Daisy appears to be dressed in a tank and black pants – a typical suburban mom, she hopes, not a superhero and her sidekick.

She's been keeping an eye out for somewhere suitable to go to ground – Mack's been delayed getting away to come to their assistance (the problem with running a black ops team that's only semi-official – and certainly not known to SHIELD's bosses, she supposes), and now she spots something that looks suitable: a house set back from the main road, with a weed-infested track, and what looks like a bunch of junk mail stuffed into the mailbox by the gate. She scrambles out and opens the gate, then drives the car inside, before closing the gate again, then she bumps carefully along the track and into a gravelled yard. 

"Where are we?" Coulson asks, sitting up as she pulls the car to a stop out of sight of the track.

"Somewhere safe, I hope," she tells him.

She slips out of the car, then opens the back door, and he slides out, stumbling a little when his feet reach the ground. "Just a sec," she tells him, and reaches back in to grab her belt and field jacket. Then she helps Coulson across the yard to the door.

"It'll be locked, won't it?" he asks doubtfully.

"Mmm." Daisy places her palm flat against the lock and carefully vibrates it. A moment later there's a distinct click, and the door swings open at her shove.

"Wow, Daisy." 

She glances sideways at Coulson's face and sees his 'heart eyes' as she thinks of them – the frankly ridiculously adoring face he does whenever she does something with her powers that he's not seen before.

She guides him straight up the stairs, wanting to get him into an actual bed, and she's relieved to discover that while the house is clearly abandoned, it's still fully furnished, and while it smells musty, she can't see any obvious signs of mould. She guides Coulson into a chair, then rummages in the closets and a chest in the corner until she finds clean, slightly cedar-scented bed linens, and she quickly strips the bed, then remakes it with fresh bedding.

"You don't have to go to all this trouble for me," he tells her as she's finishing up making the bed.

"No, I guess I don't, but I want to, so."

"Daisy." His soft voice and softer expression does weird things to her, but she ignores it, and guides him across to the bed, removing his shoes, and ensuring he's comfortable.

"Are you okay?" he asks when she has him settled to her satisfaction.

"Hungry," she admits.

"I don't know what food you'll find downstairs," he says.

"Me either," she says, "but I'll look. Failing that, I do have those protein bars Jemma makes."

He chuckles softly at her expression: while she loves Jemma and is grateful to her friend for making up the protein bars, they really don't taste of much. One of these days, Daisy's going to get the recipe off her and make some up for herself, but with more flavour.

"Do you want anything?" she asks.

"Some water would be nice," he admits, and she nods.

"I'll be back in a few then."

"Not going anywhere," he murmurs, and she can't help noticing that he looks paler than usual.

"Not until Mack's free to come and fetch us, anyway," she tells him as lightly as she can.

"Mmm."

She leans down and presses her lips to his forehead and his eyes, which had closed, open again as he gives her a questioning look. She shrugs, not really sure what to say, then heads back downstairs in search of food, and a glass for water.

After some rummaging she comes up with a couple of cans of vegetable soup, a box of crackers, and some cans of fruit, all of which are not yet past their last date to eat. She fills a glass with cold water, and carries that up to the bedroom, and Coulson accepts it gratefully, along with some painkillers from Daisy's utility belt.

"I found canned soup and fruit, and crackers," she tells him.

"A veritable feast," he says dryly, and she chuckles.

"Better than protein bars, at any rate," she says. "Want some? I mean, you should probably eat something to keep your strength up after getting shot."

"Yeah, I should. Thanks. Do you want me to come and help."

She rolls her eyes dramatically. "Phil, I know I'm not a good cook, but I think even I can manage to open a few cans and heat some soup."

He smirks, and she smiles back, glad that he's feeling chipper enough to tease. "I'll await my share of the feast, then," he says.

She bows. "Your wish is my command, sire."

He chokes with laughter, then waves her away, and she hurries back downstairs feeling considerably more chipper herself.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Daisy wakes abruptly from the light sleep she'd fallen into after eating the scratch meal with Coulson, and he stirs beside her. She hadn't meant to fall asleep on the bed beside him, but she'd been so tired from their fight earlier, and from worrying about Coulson, that her exhaustion had caught up with her.

"What is it?" he asks softly.

"A vehicle's coming," she says. "Wait here, while I go and see if it's Mack or trouble." She slips the ICER from its holster on her utility belt and moves noiselessly off the bed and across the room. She pads, sock-clad and silent, down the stairs and across the ground floor until she reaches the window that overlooks the yard. She sighs with relief when she spots a familiar SUV pulling up, and sees two very familiar figures climb out.

She waits until they've almost reached the door, then opens it quickly, and is pleased that though they're clearly both startled, they also both produce their ICERS, only to relax when they see Daisy's waiting for them.

"Tremors," Mack says. "Everything okay?"

"It is now you're here," she tells him.

He and Elena follow her inside, and she starts up the stairs to fetch Coulson, and meets him half way. He's carrying her boots, utility belt and field suit jacket, and has put on his own shoes but left them untied. She touches his wrist, and gestures at them, so he stops on the stairs and lets her fix them.

"I couldn't do them myself without feeling dizzy," he tells her quietly.

She bites her bottom lip, nods, then slips her arm around him and brings him the rest of the way downstairs. 

"Let's get out of here," Daisy says, putting on her boots and jacket as soon as they reach the bottom of the stairs. She looks at Mack. "Did you bring the item I requested?"

"I did," he answers, and pulls an envelope from his pocket.

"Thanks." 

She takes the envelope and once they're outside, she crosses to the borrowed car, then puts the envelope in the glove compartment. She's already made a note of the car's registration plate, and once they're out of the area, she'll anonymously report its location to the authorities so that the owner will be able to recover it. The envelope contains some cash which she hopes will make up for the inconvenience of her taking it.

"Okay, time to go," she says, and follows Coulson into the back of the SUV, while Mack and Elena climb back into the driver and passenger seats.

"Did you complete your mission objective?" Elena asks, half turning in her seat to look at them, and Daisy nods, and in a few moments they're deep in a discussion of the current iteration of the Watchdogs – although they're calling themselves something else now – and the trip back to the Zephyr passes quickly.

She's a little concerned about Coulson, who's very quiet, but his vibrations aren't agitated, so she doesn't worry unduly about his infrequent contributions to the conversation – she suspects the painkillers she gave him are wearing off, but she doesn't offer him any more as she knows whoever Mack brought along for medical assistance will likely be able to give him something stronger once he's in their care.

Once they're aboard the plane, she sees Coulson to the Infirmary, and is surprised to find that Mack brought Jemma along – she doesn't tend to come out on field missions that often since their stint in the Framework, but Daisy guesses she felt concerned enough about Coulson's injury to come along.

"I'll be in the Director's cabin, writing my report, when you're done," she tells him, and he clasps her wrist in his free hand, then laces their fingers together and squeezes before heading into the Infirmary. As Daisy makes her way to the Director's cabin she wonders if Coulson's hand squeeze is the equivalent of her forehead kisses.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

They're still a couple of hours away from the Playground when Coulson appears in the doorway of the Director's cabin, and she gives him an appraising look as he crosses the room towards her carrying two mugs of coffee. 

"How is it?" she asks, nodding at his arm, which has been far more expertly dressed.

"Sore," he says, and sets the mugs down on the desk. "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course," she says, wondering why he sounds so serious. She picks up her mug of coffee, and murmurs a thank you, then gives him an expectant look.

"Since we got out of the Framework, you've been a lot more – " He pauses, frowning in thought, and she waits with curiosity to see what adjectives he's going to use to describe her behaviour. "Solicitous and careful with me – which I very much appreciate."

"But – ?" she prompts after a short silence, because she feels sure there's a but coming.

"Not exactly a but," he says. "Today you went a step beyond that solicitousness and carefulness." She opens her mouth to apologise, but he holds up his hand to stop her. "Daisy, I'm really not complaining." To her surprise he seems to be blushing. "I liked it. When you kissed me, it made me feel safe."

"Then I'm glad I did it," she tells him. "And if you like it, then I won't offer to stop."

"Thank you."

She nods, then drinks some of her coffee, though it's still a bit too hot, because she thinks she might start blushing if she meets his eyes. When she does look up, he's smirking a little, and she rolls her eyes, which elicits a chuckle, but he doesn't say anything else for the moment.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

When they get back to the Playground they go their separate ways, and Daisy doesn't see Coulson again until about eight o'clock – she's on her way back to her bunk with a mug of coffee, intending to catch up on some report reading (because this is what happens when you head up a black ops team of superheroes), and he catches her up part way there.

"Hey," she says, smiling at him.

"Daisy."

She cocks an eyebrow at him when he doesn't immediately say any more than her name. "Phil." She mimics his too-solemn tone, hoping to make him smile, but he doesn't. "What's up?"

"Can we talk?"

She frowns. "We already are?"

He looks a little frustrated, but not at her, she thinks, then he takes a deeper breath. "There's something I'd like to discuss with you – in private, if that's okay?"

She's a bit surprised, but nods anyway, and gestures at her door when they reach her bunk. "After you."

"Thanks." He steps inside, and she thinks he seems nervous, almost – which doesn't really make sense because she can't think of single reason why he'd be nervous.

She makes a beeline for her desk and sets her mug of coffee down on the coaster (blame Coulson for that). "What can I do for you?" she asks, turning back towards him.

Rather than answering, he steps into her personal space, cups her face carefully in both hands, then brings his mouth to hover over hers. "Kiss me?" he breathes.

She can't deny she's surprised by the request, but she doesn't hesitate to respond, nor does she waste words in doing so, she simply brings her mouth to his and kisses him.

When they eventually pull apart to breathe, she clasps his shoulders and steps backwards to her bed, guiding him to sit beside her.

"Gotta confess, Phil, I wasn't expecting this."

He smiles, almost shyly. "I wasn't planning on this," he admits. "But I couldn't stop thinking about you pressing kisses to my forehead, and I felt I wanted more. And I hoped you would too."

"For the longest time," she admits.

"Good." He kisses her this time, and she finds herself slipping one hand under the back of his polo shirt, then trailing her fingertips up his spine. He moans quietly into her mouth, and she begins trying to get his shirt off, suddenly wanting more skin to skin contact.

Within moments they're naked on her bed, their bodies tangling together as they kiss and caress, and Daisy can feel the buzz of his arousal in his vibrations. It gives her a buzz, too, and she guides his hand between her thighs, moaning a little more loudly when he strokes his index down her slit before pushing it inside her. He soon adds a second finger, and she gives herself up to the pleasure of Coulson's – Phil's – fingers inside her twisting and stroking until he drives her to an intense climax, then she rolls onto her back and tugs his body over hers. Being a very smart guy, he gets the message straight away, and he quickly slides his erection into her, filling and stretching her.

"God, Phil, that feels so good," she mutters, and tightens her muscles around him.

"You too," he murmurs, then buries his face in the side of her neck as he begins to move, rocking slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed until he's thrusting deep and hard into her, and she can feel her orgasm building up and up, and she has to grab the corner of her pillow and stuff it into her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure as she comes incredibly hard, and then she feels his climax spilling into her, and she has another, shallower orgasm.

"Wow, Phil," she says, looking up at him with what she's sure is a rather dazed expression. He looks pretty dazed himself.

"Yeah," he says, a little breathlessly. "Yeah, Daisy, that was – that was really good."

She nuzzles the side of his neck, nips at his earlobe, which elicits a shudder of obvious pleasure, which she takes note of, then kisses him open-mouthed and kinda dirty.

"You will stay the night, won't you?" she asks hopefully.

"Gladly," he murmurs, and wraps his arms around her, rolling onto his back and bringing her with him so that she lies atop him. "Very gladly."

She smiles: he sounds sleepy and sated, and very satisfied. "I'll allow you a nap," she tells him, nudging his nose with hers, "but the night's young yet, so don't think that's all I'll want from you." He looks both scandalised and delighted by this, and she smirks. "Think of it as your reward for a job well done," she teases.

He chuckles. "Your wish is my command," he says in a solemn tone.

"You might regret that," she warns him, and he laughs, and she laughs too, snuggling herself tightly against him. 

"I love you," he whispers, and she lifts her head, surprised that he's saying this so soon, and then thinking that it's really not that soon at all – given how long they've known each other, and how long they've been dancing around this.

"Love you too, Phil." She rests her head on his shoulder, thinking that a nap wouldn't be a bad thing at all. 

Today's turned out quite differently than she'd expected, but she can't say she actually minds.


	19. My nightmares are usually about losing you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Framework fic: Phil talking about his nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written before 4:17 aired, so technically a canon divergence now. Rated Mature.

"My nightmares are usually about losing you." 

Coulson's voice is low, and he's half hoping Daisy won't hear his words, but she does, of course she does, and while she doesn't immediately speak, she does slip her left hand into his right and squeeze his fingers gently.

"Tell me," she says softly.

He hunches his shoulders. "I'd rather not," he says, trying to suppress a shudder at the thought of repeating any of those images.

"Phil." Her voice is still soft, but there's a firmness in it now, and when he turns to look at her, sure his expression must be as stricken as he feels, she reaches out with her free hand cups his cheek. "You'll feel better for telling me," she says. "Cleanse your system as Andrew used to say."

Because he's watching her very intently he sees the little quiver in her lip and chin at her mention of Andrew, and he lifts his left arm and wraps it around her shoulders, pulling her body against his. It feels like forever since he last hugged her, and as he presses his face to her hair, he realises he's missed it. It seems weird to be thinking of this now, when they're trapped in a HYDRA-controlled virtual world, but on the other hand, what time do they have out in the 'real world' beyond the Framework.

She's already wrapped her arms around him, and now she manoeuvres them around until they're lying on his couch, their bodies snuggled together, and she strokes her fingers lightly through his hair as she repeats, "Tell me, Phil."

So, reluctantly, he does. He recounts his nightmares after Ian Quinn shot her and she nearly died; the nightmares that followed their experiences in the temple in San Juan when she underwent Terrigenesis; his nightmares of her being Swayed and controlled by Hive; and of her being hurt, or even killed, after she left SHIELD.

By the time he's finished, he feels drained, hollowed-out, almost, but he's surprised to realise that he does feel a bit better, too.

"Thank you," he whispers, and presses his lips to hers.

"Any time," she whispers back, then kisses him back, a little less chastely. He thinks of all they've been through together, and of how much he's loved her and for how long, and of the fact that with Daisy lacking her powers, they might not make it out of here alive, and when she pulls away he slides his hands down her body to press it against his, cupping her ass with his left hand. He brings his right hand over her hip and slips it between their bodies and presses two fingers against her sex.

"Phil." His name is a loud moan against his mouth, and then her mouth is on his, hot and hungry, and utterly relentless, and he fumbles open her pants so he can get his hand inside them to touch her. He's a bit startled to discover just how slick she already is as he pushes the tip of his index inside her, but he quickly forgets about that, concentrating instead on pleasuring her. 

"More," she says insistently, and he obeys, adding a second finger to the first, and within a dozen strokes she's coming hard, her face buried in the crook of his neck as her orgasm hits her.

Once she's caught her breath she gets his pants undone and guides him into her. "Fuck, Phil," she gasps as he begins to slide inside. "You're huge."

That startles chuckle out of him, then he rolls her fully onto her back and pushes deeply into her still-throbbing sex.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

They doze for a bit afterwards, then they straighten themselves out, and Coulson makes them a late supper. It takes longer than it should because he keeps pausing to steal kisses from her as she helps him, or she suddenly wraps her arms around him, pressing her lips to the nape of his neck. It's oddly domestic, despite – or perhaps because of, he can't tell – of the danger they're in.

Eventually he gets the food on the table, and they eat in a companionable silence, before they head out to meet up with Jemma at a pre-arranged rendezvous; she's gone to see if she can 'wake up' Mack as Daisy had sensibly decided that they need all the help they can get if they're to 'wake' May and Fitz, who are both very deeply entrenched in the Framework. 

Before they leave the house, he draws Daisy into an embrace, and she tilts her head back, then smiles. "It's gonna be okay, Phil," she promises, and while he's not sure how she can make such a promise, he finds himself believing her. "We're getting out of here."

"And when we do, we're going away for a few days," he tells her firmly. "I'm going to take you somewhere nice and spoil you."

Her face lights up, like he's just promised her the sun, moon, and stars. "I'd like that," she says softly.

"Then you shall have it," he says, and wonders how he can make such a promise when their future is uncertain. Still, it's said now, and he's not going to take it back.

She smirks. "Then let's go kick some HYDRA ass, then get the hell out of here."

He chuckles, nods, then gives her a quick kiss, before ushering her out of his door. It's an excellent plan, he thinks.


	20. It's not like I missed you or anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 4:08 ficlet featuring makeouts, grilled cheese, and Little Debbie snack cakes.

"It’s not like I missed you or anything," Coulson says as they leave the common room, and Daisy laughs softly.

"Sure, Phil. I've heard from Elena and Mack about just how much you didn't miss me." She bumps her shoulder against his. "More pine than a forest, Mack said."

"Traitor," he mutters, and she laughs again, then grabs his hand and laces their fingers together, and he wishes he could feel it properly, but his latest prosthetic is still not that sensitive.

"I was going to go and grab a snack," she tells him. "Want to come with?"

"How about I make you a grilled cheese?" he suggests, and her whole face lights up.

"I'd – I'd like that, Phil, thanks."

He nods, then wonders if he should free his hand from hers, but it doesn't seem like she's desperate to let go, and he'd be lying if he said he wanted her to stop holding his hand, even though it's bound to cause comment.

Strangely, though, they don't meet anyone in the hallways as they walk through them, so he relaxes into the pleasure of holding hands with Daisy. He doesn't dare to tell her that he'd like to always hold hands with her: that'd be absurd, and he's fairly sure she's only indulging him in this way now because she's relieved that they managed to stop Robbie's uncle.

Once in the kitchen she does let go of his hand, and he wonders if he's imagining her reluctance to do so, then they begin getting out the necessary bits and pieces for him to make grilled cheese sandwiches for her.

"How many do you want?" he asks.

She bites her bottom lip, then says tentatively, "I'm quite hungry."

He smiles. "Three?"

"Three's being greedy," she says, very seriously.

He leans towards her, sliding his hand down her back, then wraps his hand around her side to pull her body into his. "No, it's not. You've been overusing your powers in the last few months, and have saved countless lives – three isn't even close to being greedy." He presses his lips to her temple, and she sighs, then turns towards him, her arms wrapping around him, and he gladly hugs her back.

"You must've really missed me," she observes. "You're not usually one for PDA."

"It's not every day my favourite superhero comes back after months away," he says.

She chuckles. "Cap was gone 70 years."

"Cap who?" he teases, and she laughs harder, and he hugs her more tightly. He wants to kiss her, wants it so desperately he can almost taste it, but he doesn't. He pulls back slowly, then says, "These grilled cheese won't make themselves."

"True," she agrees, then she kisses him – it's a light, fairly chaste kiss, but it's unmistakably her mouth on his, and he feels such a strong surge of desire spike through him that he's rooted to the spot.

"Sorry," she says, pulling away. "I – uh – I don't know what came over me."

"Don't be sorry," he says immediately. "I was thinking just now about how much I wanted to kiss you."

"Yeah?" She sounds so doubtful, and he draws her body back against his, and kisses her a bit less chastely than she kissed him.

"Phil," she gasps, and grinds against him, and he groans quietly as he feels that same strong surge of desire hit him.

"You should eat first," he tells her. "Then we can talk – and other things, if that's what you want."

"Yes," she says quickly.

They pull themselves apart, and concentrate on the food: while he's making the grilled cheese sandwiches (Daisy insists he make 'at least one' for himself to keep her company), she puts together a bowl of salad under his requested supervision – he's pretty sure she could assemble a salad on her own without any difficulty, but if she wants him to supervise, he can do that. She also pours two glasses of milk – a large one for her as she needs all the calcium she can get, and a smaller one for him. Then she goes digging through the cabinets and brings out a packet of Little Debbie cakes.

"Whose are these?" she asks, brandishing them, and he raises an eyebrow. 

"Mine. I thought they were well hidden."

"Oh."

"I'm happy to share," he says. "But only with you."

She smirks, then fetches a tray and sets the Little Debbies on it, along with the bowl of salad and the glasses of milk.

Ten minutes later he leads the way through the halls to the bunks. Daisy hasn't been allocated one yet, so they're going to eat in his. He slightly regrets the fact that he doesn't have the Director's quarters any more, but he's sure they'll manage.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

They talk as they eat, and Coulson feels himself relaxing properly for the first time since Daisy got Swayed. Once they've finished, Coulson puts the dirty crockery onto the tray and leaves that on his corner table, then he decides to clean his teeth because if he's going to be kissing Daisy, he'd rather his mouth was minty fresh. 

"I should do that," she says, then frowns. "Although my toiletries are in my van, which is parked outside Robbie's."

Her expression turns inward and sad, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders. "There's bound to be spare toothbrushes in the bathroom – unless you'd like to go and get your van?"

She shakes her head. "I'll leave it until tomorrow – I need to take his car back to Gabe anyway."

"Would you like me to come with you?"

"Would you?" Her expression lightens at the suggestion, and he presses his lips to her temple.

"I can do that," he says.

"Then it's a date," she says brightly, then frowns. "Or, you know – "

"Daisy." He cuts her off. "It's definitely a date."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I think we should clean our teeth, so I can kiss you," she says, and he chuckles quietly.

Okay."

A few minutes later they meet again in his bunk, and Daisy raises an eyebrow when he sets a box of condoms down on his nightstand. He blushes a bit, then says, "I thought it was better to be prepared. I mean, we don't have to – "

She grabs his shoulders and tugs him closer, then kisses him, cutting off his babble, and he immediately wraps his arms around her and kisses her back. It's much better than the rather more tentative kiss they shared before, and he can feel that he's growing aroused.

"Daisy," he whispers.

"Mmhmm?"

"Can we lie down?"

She pulls back and smirks at him. "It's your bunk, Phil, so you're calling the shots."

He shakes his head. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

She gives him a quick kiss, then shuffles sideways towards his bed, and he moves with her until they can settle on the bed facing each other as they lie on their sides, her boots and his shoes on the floor.

"I sort of can't believe you want this," she tells him.

"Why?" he asks gently. "Do you think you're not worthy of being loved?" She gives a shrug, and he says, "Oh Daisy", then kisses her more energetically than ever, before wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. 

"I've loved you and wanted you for ages. You are the most desirable woman I've ever known, and you're smart and sexy, and I would give you the world if I could."

"Phil." She looks as if she might cry at any moment, so he kisses her again. 

They don't have sex that night – they just kiss and cuddle, and talk more than he thinks they've ever talked before about personal stuff. Coulson doesn't regret the lack of sex, though – he is glad of the chance to reconnect with Daisy after her long absence.

Around ten she texts Jemma to find out where her new bunk is, and is surprised to discover it's just two doors down from Coulson's – with Agent Piper's in between – and since she doesn’t have any of her things with her, Coulson lends her a pair of sweatpants, an old (but clean) SHIELD tee, and a sweater, and they arrange to have breakfast together fairly early the following morning before they take Robbie's car to Gabe and collect Daisy's van. 

Even though their bunks are just two doors apart, Coulson walks her to her bunk, and he can tell she's amused by the gesture, but at the same time, he thinks she likes it. She slips her hand into his and brings him inside before she lets him go for the night, and they say their goodnights in Daisy's new bunk.

"You don't mind if we take this slow while I find my feet again?" she asks as they stand just behind her door, arms wrapped around each other.

He cups her cheek and rubs his thumb across it. "I told you, you set the pace for this. I'll be happy to give you whatever you want or need."

"Ugh," she says, sounding quite disgusted. "You're far too nice to be real."

He chuckles. "You're just gonna have to get used to it, Daisy, if you're gonna do this with me."

She sighs very dramatically, then giggles softly. "I'll deal," she tells him.

"I'm glad to hear it." He gives her one last squeeze and a deep kiss, then pulls himself from her arms. "I should go."

She bites her bottom lip, then nods. "You probably should. Although some time soon I'd like to spend the night with you – even if we don't have sex."

"I'd like that," he assures her. "Goodnight, Daisy."

"Goodnight Phil."

He slips out of her bunk, then goes into his own: he has a feeling he'll sleep well tonight, now that Daisy's under the same roof as he is. He's so glad to have her back.


	21. I will, if you will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Framework Daisy & Phil are at the Retreat for some R&R.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated: Mature

"I will, if you will." 

Daisy smirks at Phil when he scowls, looking down into the lake. They're at The Retreat for some R&R following their experiences in the Framework – the whole team is scattered for a few days, and Daisy had vaguely wondered who was going to manage the place in their absence, but Phil had told her that it wasn't her concern yet – she'd assumed that was a hint at his plan for her to become the Director of SHIELD some day.

The weather's quite nice, and Daisy's proposed going for a swim in the lake – but Phil's having second thoughts.

"It's gonna be cold," he says, and it's almost, but not quite, a whine.

She chuckles. "That's kinda the point, Phil. It's going to be cold, and out here it's really warm, so we can easily dry off and warm up afterwards." 

He folds his arms, pouting, and she's reminded of the way he'd pouted at her that morning in the Framework, after they'd spent all night just talking – him showing her all the clippings and stuff he had in his 'conspiracy theory' folder, and her telling him all about his life as a SHIELD agent in the real world.

"Go on, Phil, I'll make it worth your while," she says. "Or are you chicken?"

The last is a taunt, and they both know it, and she's not a bit surprised that it's that which gets through to him where cajoling didn't.

"I'm gonna regret this," he sighs.

"I'll make it up to you?" she promises.

"How?" he demands, and she laughs.

"I don't know – I'll think of something, I promise."

"Pinky swear," he demands, and that makes her laugh even harder.

"Pinky swear? What are you, five?"

He's definitely pouting now, she thinks, looking at his face, and she bites her lip on the sudden urge to kiss him until his pout goes away. Instead she holds out her little finger, and he hooks his around it. 

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," she says, and he rolls his eyes and says her name in a vaguely threatening tone.

"Okay, okay. I swear I will make it up to you in some way for making you swim in the cold lake with me."

He smiles. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he asks.

"Nope," she agrees, then bumps his shoulder with hers. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he says in a resigned tone, and she laughs, then grabs his hand and walks forward into the lake.

He's right, it _is_ cold, but that was kinda the point. 

"Tag, you're It!" she shouts, slapping his shoulder, then darting away through the water. He lets out a cry of outrage, then comes swimming after her, and she'd laugh if she wasn't too busy saving her breath for swimming.

He catches her eventually – it's those powerful arms, she thinks as he wraps a hand around her wrist and tugs her towards him. 

"Got you!" he says triumphantly, and she looks at him: hair plastered to his head, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement, his cheeks flushed with excitement, and she doesn't think, she just leans in and kisses him.

To her immense relief, he doesn't even hesitate, he simply kisses her back: his mouth hot and demanding, and she feels his surge of arousal through his vibrations as strongly as she feels her own through her nerves.

"God, Daisy," he mutters when she wraps her legs around his waist. "Not here. I want – " He cuts himself off when she clenches her thighs around him. "Fuck!"

"Yes," she says insistently.

"Not here," he repeats. "Please, Daisy."

She's never heard Phil Coulson beg before, but she can't help thinking that she'd like to hear it again. She bites at his bottom lip, then slowly drags her tongue along it. "Okay," she agrees.

They swim back to the shore, then run, hand in hand, back to the cabin. "Shower first," Phil says, breathless. "I'm not sure how clean that lake is."

"Better do it individually, then," she tells him, "otherwise I'm gonna fuck you in the shower."

He groans, his right hand cupping his erection through his swimming shorts, and she pushes him towards the bathroom. 

"Quickly, Phil," she urges.

"Yes," he gasps, and stumbles towards it.

In a very short space of time, they're both showered, dried, and wrapped in bathrobes, and at Phil's insistence, they decamp to Daisy's room – it's the slightly bigger one of the two at the Retreat. She doesn't care which room they use, all she wants is to get Phil's cock in her because she is aching with desire now.

Once in her room, she tumbles him onto the bed, startling an 'Oof' out of him as she uses a sparring move to get him there, then she drops her bathrobe, and he groans, then sits up to shed his own robe. He's fully hard, and she bites her bottom lip at the sight of his erection – he's bigger than Lincoln, she decides, and probably bigger than Miles, too. She slips her right hand between her thighs almost unconsciously, and it's only when Phil moans that she realises that she's touching herself.

"Daisy, please."

There's that begging voice again, she thinks happily, and she scrambles up onto the bed and lets him tug her down over his body.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

They stay in bed for hours, talking as well as fucking, and Daisy feels so relaxed, she swears she could float on the lake without effort if she could be bothered to go and check. She can't though – her body's wrapped around Phil's, their legs entangled, and their arms holding each other close.

"I consider that you've more than made it worth my while to swim in that lake with you," he tells her, sounding sleepy.

She chuckles. "I'm so glad you think so, Phil."

She kisses him softly, on the mouth, then along his jaw, then she nuzzles his neck, and he sighs her name, then rolls her onto her back and settles his body over hers. She moans his name as he guides himself inside her again, then begins to move.

"I love you, Daisy Johnson," he whispers.

"Love you too, Phil Coulson."

As he makes love to her (it's too tender to call it fucking), she can't help thinking that the next few days are going to be even better than she'd hoped. It's a happy thought.


	22. Why are you whispering?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mid-S3 canon divergence: Daisy and Coulson celebrate Thanksgiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Mature

"Why are you whispering?" Daisy asks in a low voice.

Coulson shrugs. "It's the middle of the night," he says.

She raises her eyebrows. "But there's no one else in the base," she points out. "I mean, it's Thanksgiving – everyone else has gone away, even Koenig."

He chuckles weakly. "Yeah, sorry."

She shakes her head at him. "What are you doing up anyway?" She looks at the mug on the table in front of him, taking in the smell of Jemma's camomile tea. "Couldn't sleep?"

He nods. "You?"

"Same," she admits. "You know, I'm kinda surprised you're not having Thanksgiving with – " She cuts herself off with an apologetic shrug.

"Ros – Ms Price? She already made plans, and it was kinda late in the day to add someone new. Besides she's not my girlfriend, Daisy. Just a colleague."

Daisy bites her tongue and goes to root in the kitchen cabinets. She can't pretend she likes the Dragon Lady, not even for Coulson's sake. And while she wants him to be happy, she's not at all convinced that woman's the person to make him happy. How could she, when her values are so totally against everything Phil's stood for the last few years? She sighs, then startles when Coulson speaks from right behind her.

"Bad dreams?" he asks, and reaches past her to open another cabinet and fish around in the back.

"Too much on my mind to even fall asleep," she tells him.

He pauses his scrabbling, turning half towards her, and tentatively puts a hand on her back between her shoulder blades. "Anything I can help you with?" he asks softly.

"Not this time," she tells him – because how can she tell him that his not-a-girlfriend, the head of the ATCU, is the reason she can't sleep? He should be able to figure it out himself. 

He presses his palm more firmly against her back for a moment, and she finds it a reassuring gesture. "I'm sorry, Daisy," he says softly. "Our working with the ATCU probably isn't helping, is it?"

_Very perceptive of you,_ she thinks, slightly resentfully. "Honestly? No. It's not helping at all."

His expression closes down, the soft open look of a few moments ago going completely blank, and Daisy steps away from him, opening a different cabinet and taking out a tall glass, which she then fills with milk.

"I think I'm going back to bed," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "Try again."

"Good luck," she tells him sincerely. 

He nods. "Thanks."

She makes herself turn away and not watch him as he takes his mug of tea and heads out of the kitchen. 

"Blew it," she mutters a little resentfully once his vibrations have faded from her awareness.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

When Coulson enters the kitchen the next morning, slightly later than normal, it takes him a moment to fully register what he's smelling – then the scent of pumpkin hits him properly, and he moves further into the room, then stares in disbelief at the two cooling racks on the counter beside the oven on which repose a number of cookies, pumpkin-flavoured cookies topped with cream cheese unless he's very much mistaken.

"Oh Daisy," he whispers. There's a lump in his throat and a prickle at the back of his eyes, and he suddenly feels an absolute monster – he's not done right by Daisy where the ATCU and its head are concerned, although he's been trying to do the right thing. For some reason the sight of the cookies – which she must have spent ages making last night – makes him realise that trying isn't good enough, not when it comes to Daisy. She's the most important person in all this.

He shakes his head, then goes back to his bunk and changes out of his sweatpants, t-shirt, and sweater, pulling on jeans, a pale blue button down, and a different sweater, then dragging on his coat as well. He feels sure there's a coffee shop or diner already open somewhere, even on the Thanksgiving.

When he gets back to the base, nearly an hour later, it's still relatively early, though not for Daisy, whom he knows still keeps to her early morning training schedule. On the off chance that she's in the gym, he heads there first. He'd prefer not to find her there, of course, because he'd rather she was finally getting some sleep, but the gym's on the way to the bunks anyway, so he figures he'll check there first.

It's deserted, so he goes on towards her bunk. It's only when he reaches it that he realises he doesn't want to wake her up if she is sleeping – but at the same time, he's brought her breakfast. Perhaps he can persuade her to have breakfast in bed, and then go back to sleep.

He's almost at her door when it opens and she comes out wearing her workout kit.

"Phil!" She sounds startled, as well she might.

"Daisy," he says softly. "I – uh – I brought you breakfast."

She frowns. "You didn't have to do that," she says.

"Like you didn't have to spend half the night making Thanksgiving cookies," he points out, and she ducks her head.

"I wanted to do something nice," she says, sounding defensive. "Even if no one else is here today."

"It's very nice of you," he says, and she looks back up at him, biting her bottom lip.

"Did you bring breakfast for two?" she asks.

"I did," he says, "but I wasn't – "

"Come in," she says, and opens her door again, stepping backwards and holding it wide.

He crosses the threshold, aware that he's never been inside her room before. It's neat and rather spartan, he notices, and the bed's already made, which makes him a little sad.

"I don't have any chairs in here, sorry," she tells him, "but you're welcome to share my bed." Her eyes go wide and she blushes as she obviously realises what a double entendre that is. It relaxes him, though, and he chuckles softly.

"I don't mind," he tells her, and they move to sit side by side on the bed. He holds out the cup carrier her got from the coffee shop. "That's yours."

She takes the one he nodded at, and gives him a shy sort of smile. "Thanks."

He holds out the bakery bag in his left hand. "I thought you might enjoy these."

She sets the coffee cup on the nightstand, then takes the bag from him and opens it to reveal three chocolate and orange muffins.

"Phil," she says softly, and bumps her shoulder against his. "Thanks." She takes one out and holds it out to him.

"I bought those for you," he protests.

"And I choose to share them with you," she says firmly.

He accepts it with a nod, then takes a first mouthful of coffee.

"I should really save these for after my workout," she says thoughtfully, then smiles wickedly. "But I'm not gonna."

He chuckles, then bumps his shoulder against hers in solidarity. "That's my girl."

They eat their muffins and drink their coffee in a silence that's companionable, to Coulson's great relief. He's pretty sure he doesn't deserve Daisy forgiving him this easily for getting SHIELD involved with the ATCU, but then she's always been far more forgiving than anyone he's ever known. He suspects it's a result of her upbringing – and it still angers him that SHIELD was responsible for her shitty childhood, even if it was done to protect her.

"Hey," she says softly. "No sad faces today, okay? It's Thanksgiving – let's be thankful."

"I am thankful," he says firmly. "For you." She blushes, and opens her mouth, but he holds up his hand. "Please, Daisy, let me finish." She nods, biting her bottom lip. "I'm thankful that we met, and that I've had the privilege of working beside you, and of the chance to put the resources in your way that have helped you to fulfil the potential I saw in you three years ago when you came aboard the Bus. I'm thankful for all the support you've given me, even when I shut you out. And I'm thankful that your example's inspired me to try to become a better man."

"Phil," she says softly. Then leans in and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth. "I'm thankful for you, too."

He turns his head and lifts his hand to cup the back of her neck, and she looks him in the eye, then nods, so he kisses her properly, slipping his tongue into her mouth and tangling it with hers.

They spend some time making out, barely coming up for air as they kiss and kiss and kiss, until eventually she moans and pushes him down onto the bed.

"Phil," she gasps, and he knows what she wants, and although he's quite sure he's not good enough for her, and he definitely knows he doesn't deserve her, he doesn't hesitate to bring her body down over his. Pretty soon he's naked and hard, and she's rolling a condom onto his cock before guiding it into her slick heat.

"Daisy," he groans as he sinks into her velvet warmth.

"Phil." She moans, and he can feel that he's stretching her as he fills her, and it's almost enough to send him over the edge prematurely. Once he's buried to the hilt she squeezes her inner walls around him, and he groans again, then begins to thrust.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

"So I guess I don't need to go to the gym for my workout today after all," she says, a couple of sweaty, satisfying hours later.

He chuckles. "I guess you don't," he says, and continues stroking his hand up and down her spine as she lies half on top of him, her head resting below his chin.

"Good. I kinda prefer this sort of workout, to be honest."

"Mmhmm."

She chuckles this time, then lifts her head and kisses him, slow and languorous. "Are we gonna grab a shower and get dressed, or – "

"Or – for now," he says.

"Or what?" she asks.

"Stay here and have a nap?" he suggests.

"Mmm. Okay, I can get behind that." She manoeuvres them under the covers – he's not entirely sure how as he's pretty sleepy at the moment, then presses her body tightly against his again.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Phil," she whispers.

"Happy Thanksgiving Daisy."


	23. Same time tomorrow?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Framework: Phil and Daisy go from sparring to makeouts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Teen & Up

"Same time tomorrow?" Daisy asks Phil, and he gives her a look, which makes her smirk. "What, Phil, have you decided that you're not interested in sparring with me after all?" She chuckles, shakes her head, then offers him her hand, easily bringing him back up to his feet.

"Yes, okay, same time tomorrow," he agrees in a really long-suffering tone that simply makes her snicker. 

"Aw, Phil. Are you regretting your taunts about things going differently now?" she teases.

"I think you're enjoying this to an excessive degree," he grumbles.

She grins, then slings her arm around his shoulders. "Tell you what, let's grab a shower, then we'll slip out and grab breakfast – my shout."

"Pancakes?" he asks hopefully, and she laughs, then reaches over with her free hand and lightly slaps his belly. 

"Are you sure you should be eating pancakes, Agent Coulson?"

"Oi!" he says indignantly.

Daisy laughs again, and he turns to her and hugs her, ignoring the fact that they're both sweaty from working out together.

"It's so good to hear you laugh," he says softly.

"It's good to laugh," she tells him. "I'll stop teasing you, though, if you want."

"No," he says firmly. "Don't stop on my account."

"Okay." She gives him a squeeze, then pulls away. "Much as I'm appreciating the hug, we're both a bit gross, so shower?"

"And breakfast," he agrees.

"See you in the hangar in 30?"

"Definitely."

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

A little over half an hour later they're riding Daisy's motorbike downtown to a diner that she swears has the best pancakes in the state. Phil's riding behind her, his arms wrapped firmly around her middle, and she wonders if it wouldn't have been better if they'd taken Lola instead, because she is definitely a bit turned on right now – she was anyway, because sparring with Phil Coulson is definitely sexy, and if they were in that kind of relationship, she'd probably class it as foreplay. But they're not, so she doesn't, but it pretty much is foreplay, and she thinks that having a powerful motorbike between her legs isn't the smartest move she could've made this morning.

_Too late now,_ she thinks wryly, and speeds up a little as she heads down the highway. She can't help thinking about how nice this is – just her and Phil sneaking out for breakfast together. Everything's been a bit of a mess since they got out of the Framework – May's on indefinite medical leave, and Mace is still recovering from the injuries he took from Ivanov's thugs before he was shoved into the Framework. Mack and Jemma are both suffering in various ways emotionally from their actions. (Fitz didn't survive.) To be honest, she and Phil seem the least affected – although she knows that they're not unaffected by events, either of them. Her body might've been virtual in the Framework, but she'd still suffered from the beating the HYDRA thugs had given her when May caught up with her as she was trying to get out of the Triskelion to join Phil and Jemma, and the Resistance. And Phil's had his head messed with yet again, which makes her really mad. She's glad they were able to stop AIDA, and to destroy the Framework, but she can't help wondering if any of them will ever be the same again.

Reaching the diner, she decides not to brood on that – right now she just wants to enjoy breakfast with Phil.

Because it's so early, there aren't too many people in the diner, so they find themselves a quiet corner booth near the window, and slip onto the benches opposite each other. A waitress comes over promptly, and they both order a large coffee, and Phil orders a stack of pancakes, then Daisy orders fruit juice and pancakes, but also scrambled eggs on toast with bacon, and a bowl of oatmeal with fruit. 

"You want it all at once?" asks Rosie.

"Pancakes, juice, and coffee first, please," she tells her. "Then the oatmeal, then the eggs and bacon."

Rosie makes some notes on her pad, then looks Daisy up and down. "I don't know where you're gonna put it all, girl, but you enjoy now."

Phil chuckles as the waitress walks away, and Daisy raises her eyebrows. "What?"

"Well, she kinda has a point – with a breakfast like that, you ought not to be as svelte as you are. You're lucky your Inhuman biology lets you eat like that."

She snorts. "It's because of my Inhuman biology that I have to eat like that," she reminds him.

He looks chastened, and is clearly opening his mouth to apologise when Rosie returns with their coffees and Daisy's glass of fruit juice. She sets the drinks down, then tells them it'll be another few minutes until their pancakes are ready.

"Daisy – " Phil begins when Rosie's gone.

"It's okay, Phil," she says immediately. "Honestly. I don't mind. I wasn't having a go at you."

"I know," he says softly, "but it was still insensitive of me." He reaches across the table and touches the back of her hand as she grasps her glass of juice. "I don't want to be that guy."

"You're not," she says firmly, and turns her wrist so she can clasp his hand. "You're quite literally the nicest guy I know, but not in a 'nice guy' way, and you're way more sensitive than I think most people realise, so give yourself a pass this time."

He shakes his head. "Sometimes I could wish you were a little less forgiving," he says, his face as soft as his voice now. Daisy's about to say something, but then he lifts her hand and leans forward to press a kiss to her knuckles.

Before she can ask him 'What the hell, Phil?', because really, Phil, what the hell? Rosie returns with their pancakes and various toppings, which she proceeds to spread across their table. Daisy decides that here and now may not be the best place or time to discuss what the hell Phil thinks he's doing, so she attacks her pancakes with gusto.

They only talk a little while they eat, and when they finally leave the diner, Daisy's feeling nicely relaxed. 

"Hey, you wanna drive on the way back?" she asks.

Phil looks startled, as well he might. She's not quite so adamant about people not touching her bike as he is about Lola, but she doesn't usually let others ride it. "You sure?" he asks doubtfully.

"One time only offer," she tells him, slipping the keys from her jeans pocket and dangling them in front of him.

"I'd be honoured," he says, so solemnly that she almost laughs. He takes the keys from her, and they pull on their helmets, then climb onto the bike, and head back to the Playground. Daisy's got her arms wrapped around Phil, and she finds herself focusing on his vibrations – she's got pretty good at reading people's moods and emotions via their vibrations – and Phil's currently radiating contentment, but there's something else there too, something she can't identify because it's not something she's ever sensed from him before. She can't help wondering if it's got anything to do with him kissing her knuckles earlier, and she decides that they need to talk before they go back to the Playground and get plunged into work.

She taps the back of his hand, and he slows the bike a bit. "Daisy?" he shouts above the building traffic noise.

"Take a left here," she shouts back, and is relieved that he doesn't ask her why, he just turns left at the next intersection, and continues to follow her directions south-east, over the 11th Street Bridge, until they reach Cedar Hill in Anacostia – home to Frederick Douglass. He pulls up in the parking lot, and pulls off his helmet, and Daisy does the same.

"Daisy?"

"I need to talk to you, Phil," she says. "And I want to do that without the risk of being interrupted by other agents. Don't worry, we won't be long. I just wanted a bit of peace and quiet for this conversation."

"Okay," he says easily, and she thinks, yet again, about how much he trusts her, and how much it's always meant to her that he does trust her so much, and so easily. They leave their helmets with the bike, pay the fee, then Daisy leads the way through the grounds until they find a bench where they can sit and talk in privacy.

"What's up?" he asks softly once they're settled.

"I could ask you that," she answers. 

To her surprise he blushes. "I – " He swallows, the sound seeming loud in the silence. 

"Phil?" she says softly, and wraps her hand over his left wrist as he seems to struggle with what he wants to say.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he says. "I mean, I've thought about it often, over the years, but I always told myself it wouldn't be fair to you – that you deserve someone better, someone _younger_ , but then you had someone younger and – I'm sorry to say this – but he didn't treat you very well. And – "

"Phil." Daisy cuts him off. "You're babbling. Are you saying what I think you're trying to say?"

He swallows again, then turns towards her more fully. "I love you, Daisy Johnson," he says in a very low voice, both her hands in his, although she didn't notice him taking hold of them. "I've loved you for a very long time – I think we both know that – but – well, I'd like something more than your friendship, if you're willing to share more with me. And I know I'm old and damaged, and – Mmphf."

He's definitely babbling, and deciding that actions speak far louder than words, Daisy cuts him off with a kiss. He lets go of her hands to hold her shoulders, kissing her back as eagerly as she's kissing him, and after a few minutes she breaks the kiss just long enough to climb onto his lap.

"Daisy," he breathes. 

"Phil," she whispers back. "I never thought you'd want this. I mean, I knew you loved me – I think everyone's known that for ages, Phil." She smirks at him as he blushes again. "But I didn't think that meant kissing and stuff. I just thought it meant you always having my back, or fighting my corner, or encouraging me to exceed my potential. All of which are great, by the way."

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her torso. "So you're okay with us having the 'kissing and stuff'?" he asks, his tone a little teasing.

"Hey, who just kissed whom?"

"Fair point," he agrees. 

She realises as she resumes kissing him, that the unfamiliar thing she'd felt in his vibrations earlier is what she'd believed – desire – and it sort of blows her away that a man like Phil Coulson could desire a girl like her, but she's not going to pretend it's not what she's wanted for ages.

He sneaks his right hand under her tank and slides his fingertips up her spine, and she arches her spine, pushing her breasts towards him. She's aware that her nipples have grown hard, and that she's growing wet, and she wonders if they dare have sex here.

Regretfully she decides it's too risky – she can just imagine the headlines if 'Quake' is caught mid-fuck in a public park with the former Director of SHIELD. They don't need that kind of hassle, so she refrains from grinding shamelessly against his growing erection, and reluctantly pulls her mouth from his.

"Nice as this is – and it's very, very nice – can we find somewhere with a bed?" she asks.

"That's an excellent plan, Agent," he says smirking.

"I'm glad you think so Agent," she says, and smirks back, then climbs off his lap. She holds out her hand, and they make their way back to the parking lot.

Today's the best day ever.


	24. It’s 8:30, I have a hangover and you’re annoying me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-S3, newly established Cousy sexy tiems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Explicit

"It’s 8:30, I have a hangover and you’re annoying me." Daisy didn't quite glare at the others, but it was close. Hunter laughed in what Daisy considered was a malicious fashion, while Mack set a tall glass of orange juice down on the counter against which Daisy was leaning.

"This'll make you feel better," he said, his voice a low rumble that was a little more soothing to her than the sound of Hunter's more strident tones.

"Thanks, Mack," she said gratefully, and reached carefully around herself for the glass. She took a couple of mouthfuls, then felt herself perk up slightly when Coulson – Phil, as he'd told her she could call him last night – sometime before she gave herself the hangover from Hell – walked into the kitchen. It wasn't just the fact that the sight of him cheered her up, but also the fact that he looked about as hungover and wrecked as she felt. 

"Sir, would you fire Hunter?" she asked.

"Now?" he asked, smiling at her in what she considered was far too sexy a fashion.

"Would be good," she agreed, with a soft smile back.

"Of course."

"Hey, hey!" protested Hunter.

"I'd go and see Bobbi if I was you, mate," Mack advised, pouring a second glass of orange juice, and offering it to Phil, who thanked him courteously.

"I'm going, I'm going," Hunter said, sounding cross. "You people have no sense of humour."

"None whatsoever where you're concerned," Daisy told him, feeling a little more cheerful now he was going away.

"Can I get either of you anything else?" Mack asked, and when they both told him that they'd manage, he went out too. 

Phil moved to Daisy's side, and brushed his right arm against hers as he moved to stand facing the counter, reaching for the slices of bread Mack had left out.

"Toast?" Phil asked.

"Please," she agreed. She switched her glass to her left hand, then reached out with her right and slipped it under his t-shirt, placing her palm against his belly. "Okay?" she whispered.

He let go of the knife he was using to butter the bread and placed his hand over hers, lacing their fingers together over his belly.

"Yeah," he said softly. "You?"

"Aside from the hangover?" she asked, and he gave her a little smirk. "Yeah. Maybe a little sore, but in a good way." She added the last quickly when he looked alarmed at her 'confession'.

"Daisy," he said, and she whispered his name back, then leant in and brushed her mouth against his stubbly cheek. 

"You haven't shaved," she observed.

He quirked his eyebrows. "Someone promised to do that for me this morning, then abandoned me."

"Sorry," she whispered. "Hunter pounced on me with glee."

"My poor girl."

Daisy drew their joined hands down over his stomach to press lightly on his crotch, and he flicked a wide-eyed look at her. She had to admit, this was a bit of a risky manoeuvre – anyone might walk in at any moment, after all. But at least her hand was outside his sweatpants. What she really wanted was to slip her hand inside and curl her fingers over his hot flesh which was rapidly stiffening beneath her touch.

"Phil," she moaned.

"Perhaps we should take this elsewhere?" he suggested quietly.

"Yeah," she breathed.

"Let me make some toast first though. I know you're a youngster still, but an old man like me needs sustenance to keep up with a young woman like you."

"Old man my ass," she snorted. She curled her fingers over the shape of his erection, and he thrust his hips forward, involuntarily she was sure.

"Daisy," he said in an admonishing tone.

"There you are!" May's voice startled Daisy as she came into the kitchen, but Daisy was very careful not to jerk her hand away from the bulge of Phil's swollen shaft – that would've drawn unwanted attention. She slipped her hand free slowly, then withdrew it and turned fully towards her SO.

"Here I am," she agreed, digging up a smile.

May looked her up and down, then shook her head. "I suppose I can let you have one morning off," she said. "I hear you overindulged yourself last night."

"Hunter," groaned Daisy, and May smirked.

"He did say you looked a wreck."

"Charming," Phil said, half turning at the counter and nodding at May before finishing his task. As far as Daisy could tell he was slathering the toast with peanut butter and jelly. 

"I'll expect to see you bright and early as usual tomorrow morning," May told her, and Daisy agreed, then watched her go, before turning to find Phil was offering her a plate of toast.

"Let me just grab some coffee," he said, and Daisy nodded, feeling quite certain coffee would definitely help. She dug out a tray, and loaded onto it their glasses of orange juice, and the plates of toast. 

A few minutes later they headed back through the hallways and upstairs to Phil's quarters – and she felt a little jolt of excitement as they slipped inside. She could sense from Phil's vibrations that he was still aroused, and she was aware of the slick heat between her thighs. She wanted him right now, and she was fairly sure he wanted her immediately too. On the other hand, though, the coffee and toast would get cold if she insisted on them fucking right away. So she settled on his bed with him, and they had breakfast in a state of simmering arousal and lust, then Phil moved the tray onto the credenza, and Daisy lounged back on the bed, her right hand cupping her sex through her sweatpants while her left cupped her breast through her tank.

"Fuck, Daisy." He whispered the words when he turned around and saw her, and she smirked up at him.

"That sounds like an excellent plan, Phil," she said. 

He chuckled, then knelt on the end of the bed and tugged at the knees of her sweatpants, so she lifted her ass and let him drag them off. "Do you want to shave me before – ?" He gestured at her sex, and she felt her eyes go wide as she realised he was intending to go down on her.

"No need," she said. The thought of his stubble scratching at her thighs as he ate her out was a definite turn on.

He spread her legs, but she grabbed his head before he could begin. "Pants off first, Phil," she told him. "It'll save time afterwards."

"You think of everything," he said admiringly.

She smirked. "I try."

He stood up on the bed and dropped his sweatpants, and she bit her bottom lip – she'd already seen his cock last night, of course, but she couldn't deny that she felt that seeing it by daylight was like seeing it for the first time.

"May I?" he asked, almost formally, and she beckoned him down.

"Please," she breathed. 

He smiled, then settled himself between her legs and she moaned softly as he drew his tongue up the length of her wet sex.

"Oh god." The moan slipped out of her unintentionally, and it turned out to be the first of many as he went down on her with an enthusiasm she'd never experienced with previous lovers.

Eventually he raised his head and shifted up the bed, and she felt the head of his cock bump against her still-quivering thigh as he positioned himself over her. "Okay?" he asked softly.

"Very okay," she whispered. "I think my hangover's gone."

He chuckled softly, then said, "May I kiss you?"

For a moment she wondered why he was asking, then realised it was probably because his mouth was wet with her juices. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down to kiss her, and he opened his mouth over hers, then demonstrated all over again just how good he was with his mouth.

"In me, Phil, please," she gasped after a bit.

He reached out to the nightstand and grabbed a condom, and she thought about how shy he'd seemed last night when he'd produced them – as if she'd somehow mind that he cared enough to want to use one.

He eased his dick into her, and they both moaned as he stretched and filled her, before resting the weight of his upper body on his very amazing arms. (He'd teased her about her liking for Thor's 'dreamy arms' last night before she'd kissed him into silence.)

"I love you," he whispered.

"Phil," she whispered back. He hadn't said that last night, although she had never doubted that he did love her.

He smiled, then began to move slowly, his gaze fixed on hers with such a loving tenderness in her eyes that she felt like weeping – no one had ever looked at her like that before.

They came together, then he rolled off her and they snuggled together for a bit before agreeing that they should shower and get dressed before anyone started wondering where the Director and his right-hand woman had got to.

"And I should shave you," she told him as they made their way into the ensuite. "Wouldn't want to give Hunter any ideas."

Phil chuckled. "Let's not," he agreed.

She smirked, and did her best not to simply stand and stare as he stepped past her into the shower cubicle. His body was definitely worth ogling, she decided. 

_Thor who?_ she thought with a smirk.


	25. I think I made a mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy has a moment of crisis about Phil getting injured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phil Coulson is THE BEST at emotional support.

"I think I made a mistake."

Daisy's voice is quiet, and almost muffled where her head's resting on Coulson's chest as they lie cuddled together in bed.

"About what?" he asks curiously. His right hand is idly stroking up and down her left arm, which rests across his chest.

"This. Us."

"Daisy?" He's startled by her response – he hadn't imagined she'd ever think them getting together was a bad idea, especially not when they've been together six months. "What do you mean?" He's trying not to panic, but it's not easy. 

Daisy, of course, senses his panic, and she pushes herself up so she can look at him face to face. "I mean I'm not sure it was such a good idea." She gestures to his right leg, currently bandaged heavily and propped on a pillow. "We both know death follows me everywhere I go."

Coulson sits up. "Daisy," he says softly, "that's not true." He reaches out and cups her cheek with his right hand. "Come on, love, you know that's not true."

She shifts and leans forward, resting her forehead against his, and he wraps his arms around her. "Do I?" She sighs heavily. "Eric Koenig. Trip. My mom. Lincoln. They're all dead because of me. And I couldn't save Charles Hinton."

"Oh Daisy." He tightens his arms around her, wishing he knew how to comfort her, or convince her that she isn't a curse or a jinx or whatever she's thinking. 

"And how many times have you been injured because of me? Or – "

"Daisy." He cuts her off, and holds her at arm's length from him so he look her in the eyes. "Do you really believe that in the 30 or so years I was a SHIELD agent before I met you I never got injured?" He snorts. "You _do_ remember I died? That I was stabbed through the heart by Loki – which, let me remind you, was before we even met."

"I know, I know, but – "

"No, Daisy." He speaks very firmly now. "No buts. You are not a curse or a jinx or anything else, okay?" He cups her cheek again, drawing the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone because a tear's slipped down her face. "You're a superhero," he whispers. "You're _my_ superhero – my favouritest and best – even better than Captain America. You are a force for good in this shitty world, and I am proud to work and fight along side you every single day. You're the best thing that ever happened to me – or to SHIELD – and neither of us could function half so well without your courage, your strength, and your moral righteousness."

He pulls her back into an embrace as she's crying properly now. "You can walk away from me and from SHIELD," he tells her. "But don't think that I'd let you go without a fight this time."

"Phil." She sobs his name, and he caresses and cuddles her, murmuring a stream of loving reassurance to her until the emotional storm subsides.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"Don't be," he says firmly. "You're allowed to have moments of doubt, just like the rest of us."

"I just hate seeing you hurt," she says.

"Well likewise," he tells her, trying for a smile. "But we come through and we come back fighting."

"Yeah." She sighs, and he encourages her to resume her former position, cuddled up with him, and she leans in to give him a slow, languid kiss before she settles her head on his chest again.

"Feel better?" he asks gently.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Any time." He squeezes her a bit more tightly, then begins stroking a hand up and down her side, while resting his right hand over her left arm where it lies across his chest again.

"Love you," she murmurs, and he thinks she sounds sleepy. He hopes she'll take a nap, at least.

He presses his lips to her hair. "Love you, too."


	26. Everything was fine until you showed up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Director Daisy cooks for Phil to celebrate his birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluff to celebrate the birthday of @hamsterfactor on Tumblr.

"Everything was fine, until you showed up," Daisy complains humorously, flapping her hand at the steam that's in her face.

Coulson gives her an apologetic look. "I can go away again," he offers, though he'd far rather stay.

She shakes her head adamantly. "Nope. I have to learn how to do this."

He wants to tell that she doesn't have to learn – that he's always been quite happy to cook for them both because he loves cooking, and as Daisy's observed in the past, he's a lot more domestic than she is. But she's determined to learn, and he's never been one to stand in her way, no matter how difficult or dangerous something is.

He steps up behind her and slips his arms under hers, wrapping them around her torso and squeezing gently. "Can I help?" he asks.

"I'll let you know," she answers, pressing her back against his chest – her way of hugging him back since her hands are currently occupied with stirring both the pasta and the sauce she's making.

"Did you pick out some wine?" he asks against her ear, then nuzzles the side of her neck.

She snorts softly. "Phil, I think you've mistaken me for someone who knows anything about wine, besides the fact that some of it's red and some's white." 

He chuckles. "I'll find something suitable, then, shall I?"

"Mmhmm." 

Despite her concerns, she seems to be doing quite well with this dinner: she'd opted to do baked salmon with steamed vegetables and pasta, and he knows she spent several hours both looking up recipes online and watching YouTube videos.

He nips at her earlobe, then pulls away, reluctantly he'll admit, to go and choose some wine. As he wanders across the kitchen to the wine rack he thinks again about how happy he is that he and Daisy get to 'do domestic' in their own place, a short drive away from the Playground – an executive decision of Director Johnson's that he was thrilled to learn about when she informed him that she wanted them to have their own place rather than living on base now that she's Director and they're finally together as a couple after years of 'ridiculous' (according to Elena) mutual pining.

He finds the wine he's looking for and opens it to allow it to breathe, then begins setting the table, first laying a tablecloth over it – it's not really necessary, but this is Daisy's first attempt at cooking dinner so he wants things to be nice.

He's just added the wineglasses when Daisy calls him over for a taste test on the pasta sauce.

"I think it's ready, but I'd like a second opinion," she tells him.

He smiles as she lifts the spoon towards his mouth, and he cups his hand under hers as she guides it forward. "Tastes perfect," he reassures her after a small sample.

"Good." Her smile is tired but satisfied, and he leans in and kisses her briefly before she turns away to turn off the burners.

She serves up dinner with a pleased air, and he feels considerable anticipation in eating this meal.

"A toast," he tells her once their food is served, and raises his wine glass.

She shakes her head, smiling softly, then raises her glass towards his. He gently clinks his glass against hers. "To the chef."

"Thanks," she says, then takes a sip of her wine. "And a toast to the birthday boy."

He smirks, clinks glasses, and takes a second swallow of wine. 

"Dig in." She picks up her fork and gestures at his meal.

"One sec," he says, and pulls out his cellphone to take a photo.

"Phil," she says in a disbelieving tone.

"Daisy," he says, smirking, and she shakes her head again, then begins to eat, and he sets his phone on the table beside him, then 'digs in' with great expectation.

Dinner is delicious, and he doesn't hesitate to tell her so, and although she makes self-deprecating comments, he can tell she's really pleased with how it's turned out. Dessert is a Death By Chocolate cake – and she apologises that it's not home-made, which he assures her doesn't matter. 

Afterwards they load up the dishwasher, then move into the sitting room and settle together on the couch with the remains of the wine: Daisy's organised a Star Wars movie marathon of the original three, then the two that feature 'the new trio' of Finn, Rey, and Poe, and he's not going to lie, he's delighted at the prospect.

She's already set up the BluRay player with the first three movies, and she now drags a blanket off the back of the couch and insists on wrapping it around them both while they watch, although it's not actually cold. He wraps his left arm around her, tugging her in close, and she settles herself against his shoulder, then he lifts her left hand and kisses her fingers.

"This is the best birthday I've ever had," he tells her. "Thank you."

She grins. "Happy Birthday, Phil." She grabs the remote and starts the first movie playing, and he thinks he might be the luckiest man alive.


	27. That was a perfect example of how not to do things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy and Phil find house-sitting for her father conducive to developing their relationship further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Teen and up.

"That was a perfect example of how not to do things."

Daisy can't help smirking at Phil's dismayed reaction. "It seemed like the way to go at the time."

He rolls his eyes. "You're impossible," he says, his tone full of fond amusement and his eyes twinkling.

"Oh yeah, that's me – the impossible girl," Daisy says, smirking even more.

He holds out a hand, and she accepts it, then lets him pull her up to her feet. They both look down at the mewling clowder of cats.

"You do know cats are famous for being impossible to herd?" Phil asks, and Daisy laughs, then wraps her arms around him, hugging him. He lets out a surprised 'Oof', but hugs her back equally hard.

"Maybe we shouldn't have agreed to house sit for Cal – Dr Winslow – while he's at the Vetinarians' conference?"

Phil snorts. "Bit late for that now," he observes.

"Yeah." She bends down and scoops up three of the cats, then gives him a pointed look. "Some help wouldn't go amiss, Phil."

He's staring at her with the most ridiculously dopey grin on his face and she wonders what's wrong with him, but then he grabs her forearms and, ignoring the cats, pulls her back into his arms before planting his mouth on hers. 

To say Daisy's surprised, is an understatement – yet, at the same time, she's really not. They've pretty much been dancing around this since day 1, when they flirted and bantered with each other like it was going out of fashion.

The cats are completely forgotten (the ones in her arms wriggle free) as Phil proves himself to be every bit as fantastic a kisser as she'd always speculated/hoped/dreamed, and by the time he releases her so that they can catch their breath, she feels like her knees have been replaced with jelly, and she's embarrassingly aroused.

"Fuck, Phil," she breathes, and when he smirks, looking exceedingly cocky and smug, she grabs his arms and pulls him in for a kiss of her own.

"Daisy," he groans when she finally frees his mouth. "We need to deal with these cats, stat."

"Yeah," she says, voice breathy with lust: she had sensed his arousal via his vibrations (and the hardness of the erection pressed against her thigh as they kissed), and she wants nothing more than to take him to bed.

She looks down, then around at the room where the cats are scattered. "Go and stand in the doorway," she tells him, "and hold onto something – tight."

He gives her a puzzled look, but obeys, and then laughs out loud a moment later when Daisy uses her powers to create a very tightly controlled 'whirlwind' that scoops up the half dozen cats and deposits them into the beds provided in the laundry room off Cal's kitchen. She closes the door with a flick of her wrist, then turns around to see Phil staring avidly at her, his right hand pressed firmly against his crotch.

"Like what you see, do you, Phil?" she teases, and he shamelessly squeezes his erection through his pants, then moves to meet her as she crosses the kitchen towards him.

"Always," he murmurs, then plants his mouth on hers again, and they makeout furiously for several minutes until they're both breathless and desperate.

"Bed," she murmurs, and he nods adamantly, then lets her lead the way upstairs, his hand wrapped in hers.

As she ushers him into the guest room she's been using she can't help feeling glad that Cal – Dr Winslow isn't due home for another 3 days: he may not know he's her father, but she'd still rather he didn't walk in on her and Phil exploring this development in their relationship.

She draws him down onto the bed with her, and as her hands get busy with undressing him, her last coherent thought for a while is: 'Finally.'


	28. I have contemplated becoming a hermit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Framework: Life for Director Daisy 'Quake' Johnson is getting more frantic.

"I have contemplated becoming a hermit."

Coulson gives Daisy a sympathetic look. The level of attention that she's getting as 'Quake' just keeps growing, and it's getting to the stage where she can't appear in a public capacity without being mobbed, more or less. The crowds are mostly positive, thankfully, but SHIELD is always kept exceptionally busy at these events maintaining a close watch on people in case someone who's violently opposed to Inhumans in general, or Inhuman SHIELD agents specifically, turns up with ill intent.

"How about we take a few days off after this?" he suggests. "I'm sure the Director of SHIELD would agree you've earned it."

She chuckles, and he smiles back, pleased to have amused her. "Hmm, not sure," she says in a faux-thoughtful tone. "Hey, Director, can Phil and I take a few days off after this circus?" She adopts a silly falsetto. "Yes, okay, Agent Johnson. You've earned it."

He laughs. "You don't sound anything like that," he says.

"No one sounds like that, Phil – well, not unless it's a guy who's just been assaulted in the nuts." He winces, and she laughs. "Sorry," she says perfunctorily. He shakes his head. "Anyway, yeah, a few days away sounds like a great plan – provided no one decides to storm the barricades."

"Good," he says, then adds, "I thought we might go to the Retreat – it's not exactly a hermitage, I know, but – "

"It's pretty isolated," she finishes, then nods. "Yeah, that's a good idea, Phil. Can you start setting it up while I'm in with the Senator?"

"I can," he agrees easily. He leans in and presses his lips lightly to hers, then pulls back and grabs his tablet as she looks up a few moments before the door opens and the Senator's aide arrives to escort her.

"See you later," she says, and he nods, giving her an absent smile as he focuses on arranging things so that Daisy can get a few days of peace and quiet. Since she took over as Director of SHIELD some three months ago, following Jeff Mace's death in the Framework, life has been non-stop and frantic, and she has more than earned some time off. It will also be the first time off they've had since becoming lovers just a month ago, and he can't deny that the idea of having Daisy all to himself for a few days during which he can feed and pamper her is especially appealing. 

He's deeply (and selfishly) grateful that she doesn't really intend to become a hermit: he needs her, and far more importantly, the world needs her too. But as he hears the crowd outside chanting her name, he has considerable sympathy with her longing for peace and quiet. He pulls out his cell to call May and ask her to prep the Quinjet for their trip to the Retreat: he can't give Daisy a hermitage, but he can give her a few days of solitude at least.


	29. I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-S3: Somehow their search for the SHIELD SUV leads to a declaration of feelings, which in turns leads to sexy times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated: Explicit

"I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it."

Daisy snorts. "Sure, Coulson. I mean, obviously, anyone can misplace an SUV – they're so inconspicuous."

He turns a pained look her way, then his face crinkles into amusement. "It does sound absurd, doesn't it? Sorry, Sk– Daisy."

She bumps her shoulder against his as he stumbles over her changed name. He's still trying to get used to the change, and with anyone else, she'd probably be annoyed by his frequent lapses into the use of her previous name, but Coulson isn't like anyone else: he's her best friend, her only family (though she definitely doesn't think of him as a father-substitute, and never will now that she's met her real father, even if the latter no longer remembers he has a daughter), and the person she's been closest to since joining SHIELD. She quite understands why he's struggling to get her name right.

"Maybe I'll start a tip jar," she teases. "Every time you call me 'Skye', I'll get you to put a dollar in it, and then when I've got $50, I'll pay for you to have my actual name tattooed on your knuckles."

He looks absolutely stunned by the suggestion, then bursts out laughing, and she can't help laughing too. 

"Because that wouldn't cause any kind of comment whatsoever," he says when he finally has breath enough to speak.

"No, but imagine punching bad guys in the face and the last thing they see is my name hurtling towards them!"

That sets him off on a fresh round of laughter, his right arm wrapped around her as he struggles for composure, and she can't help being glad of this – an occasion to tease him and make him laugh – there's been little laughter for either one of them since the events aboard the Iliad. She's even more pleased when he wraps his left arm around her too – it's the first time they've hugged properly since he got his prosthetic fitted, and she's not gonna lie, she's missed his two-armed hugs (not that he's been hugging her a lot with only one arm, but – )

"I do love you, you know," he says once their mutual laughter has subsided again.

She raises her eyebrows. "Sure," she says. "And I love you. You're my best friend, and – "

"No." He stops her with that single word, and then a press of his lips to hers, and she doesn't stop to consider the wisdom of it, she simply kisses him back, opening her mouth eagerly under his, and moaning when he licks across the roof of her mouth.

"Phil," she groans, and his whole face lights up.

"Daisy," he breathes, and slides his right hand down her back to cup her ass, pressing her body tightly against his so that she can feel the hard length of his erection.

"Fuck," she gasps, shocked but also thrilled.

"Yes," he agrees. "Not here."

She manages to disentangle herself, then scans the parking lot rapidly. "Over there," she says, and points out their SUV. They make their way over to the vehicle, and Daisy climbs into the driver's seat while Coulson settles into the passenger seat. "Back to the motel?"

He nods, and she backs the SUV out of the parking space, then hits the highway, being careful not to break the speed limit, but definitely nudging it all the way as she races across town to the motel where they're spending the night before heading back to the Playground.

They waste little time in getting to their adjacent rooms, and Daisy almost drags Phil into hers, desire and excitement making her tremble almost as much as her nerves. 

She grabs his belt as soon as the door's closed and locked, but Phil grabs her hands and lifts them away carefully.

"Slow down," he says gently.

"But – " she begins impatiently.

"I know," he says, and puts his right index under her chin, tilting her head up from where she's gazing at their joined hands. "We've waited a long time for this," he says, "which is why I don't want to rush this. I don't want our first time to be a rushed quickie."

"No 'Wham, bang, thank you ma'am'?" she asks, suddenly getting it, because _of course_ Director Charm School doesn't want that – he's far too smooth.

"Exactly," he says with a smirk. 

"Okay," she says, swallowing the sigh. "But sometime, I do want a rushed quickie."

He raises his eyebrows. "You do?"

"Of course." She smirks. "Finesse is all very well, Phil, but sometimes you just wanna fuck."

He surprises her by blushing, although she's not sure why. "Okay." He draws her into his arms and kisses her – slow and deep and desperately sexy, and she feels a flood of heat and moisture between her thighs. She also realises that his vibrations have changed, and after a moment she decides it's his desire – and she feels a thrill at the idea that he won't be able to pretend or play it cool with her – she'll always know when he wants her. She slightly regrets his loss of privacy, but at the same time, she can't deny that she finds the idea reassuring: to have definitive proof that she's desired by the man she desires is very comforting.

They take it slow, removing bits of each other's clothing one by one between lengthy kisses that are close to reducing Daisy to a melted puddle of desire: she swears she's going to come before he even gets his cock inside her. 

In fact, she comes when he eases a finger inside her to see if she's ready, and she'd be embarrassed but he seems so charmed that she's not embarrassed at all. He eases a second finger into her and she moans into his mouth as he continues to kiss her, her shoulders supported by his left arm as he lies by her right side on the bed.

She comes a second time when his thumb presses against her clit and begins massaging it. "Fuck," she mutters, and instead of removing his fingers, he continues to stroke her right through the aftershocks of her orgasm, building her up to a third one, and she stares at him.

"Are you even real?" she asks, and he chuckles, far too amused in Daisy's opinion.

"This is what happens when you fuck someone who's not a boy," he teases.

"God." She shifts, moving her body over his without him losing contact, and it's his turn to groan when she presses the full length of her naked body to his, his cock rigid between their bellies. She takes over at least some of the work, riding his fingers and sliding her body against his, their skin beginning to heat up. He's got his left arm resting against her lower back, and she's pleased that he's not afraid to touch her with the prosthetic – she'd had a moment of wondering whether he'd think she'd think it was gross or something.

"Make me come again, Phil," she insists, and he groans more loudly, then moves his fingers faster, and as soon as she starts coming she lifts her body so that his fingers drop out, then she clasps his dick and slides it straight into her slick sex, which is still pulsing and throbbing from her orgasm.

"Fuck, Daisy," he gasps, clearly not expecting this move. 

She smirks at him as she lowers her body back over his, but she's startled when he grasps her arms and tries to lift her off him.

"What?" she asks worriedly, wondering if she's hurting him.

"Condom," he hisses.

She shakes her head. "I trust you, Phil. And you know I'm covered." It's SHIELD policy, after all, and he is the Director.

He blushes in the most endearing fashion, and she tightens her muscles around him, eliciting another of his groans of her name.

"I don't know how long I can last," he tells her, sounding worried.

"It's okay, Phil," she says, and lowers her head to kiss him slow and deep. "You've already got me off three times. I just want to see you come now."

She begins to ride him, and he strokes his right hand up and down her spine, which ought to be soothing rather than sexy, but it's definitely sexy right at this moment.

"Daisy." He grunts when she tightens her muscles around him as yet another orgasm hits her, then she feels him climax, and she moans into his mouth.

Once they've both caught their breath, she rolls off him, then sits up, and they make their way into the ensuite bathroom to shower. 

She's never really believed they'd ever take their relationship this far, but she's definitely not got any complaints: Phil seems to be every bit as thoughtful and generous a lover as she'd assumed (on the rare occasions she'd allowed herself to consider the matter). She reckons Phil Coulson is the best thing to have ever happened to her, and she hopes he feels the same (though she's not quite ready to ask him that question yet).

She's happy and although she's always been wary of happiness in the past, and while she's very aware things could still go wrong, she decides that she's not going to worry about that right now.

As Phil turns on the water above them, she wraps her arms around him and presses her mouth to his. "Love you," she whispers against his lips.

"Love you, too," he says, and hugs her back.


	30. Your smile is not as bright as it used to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-S2 Canon Divergence: Daisy begins assembling her team of Inhuman agents at the Cocoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated: Mature

"Your smile is not as bright as it used to be."

"Are you surprised?" Daisy asks.

Coulson shakes his head. "Not at all." He gives her an apologetic half smile. "Sorry. I'm not having a go, or trying to imply you should be smiling all the time."

"You're not one of those guys," she points out.

"I try not to be," he agrees. He's always found people, especially men, who tell women to 'Smile' thoroughly patronising, so he's always tried to avoid doing it himself. 

She leans into his shoulder a bit, and he wrestles with the temptation to lift his left arm and wrap it around her shoulders – he's fairly sure Daisy wouldn't mind, but he's trying to be professional: he cannot yet forget Gonzales' accusations about his relationship with Daisy.

They're currently sitting on the couch in his office, looking over the plans for the base that housed the men and women who worked on the SHIELD helicarrier, the base which is going to be converted into a place where Inhumans can go to train away from most of SHIELD. It's not that he wants to hide the Inhumans away, so much as that he wants to protect them, as much as he can, from the having to deal with the stresses of being around the rest of SHIELD's agents, some of whom will undoubtedly be wary, or even hostile.

"I like the name 'The Cocoon', she tells him, and he hopes he's not blushing. "It sounds very cosy."

He smiles. "I'm hoping it will be. I hope it'll be somewhere safe and cosy where you can train and work with your people without the close scrutiny of SHIELD."

"Particularly the new Council?"

He nods. The so-called Real SHIELD had been amalgamated with Coulson's SHIELD, but with a 'Council' to offer oversight. He can't claim to be happy at the development, but he can't deny, either, that 'his' SHIELD needs the resources that Gonzales' SHIELD has brought with them in terms of personnel, equipment, and funds.

"Hey, if the Council gets too much, you can always sneak out to the Cocoon and spend time with me – " She hesitates for a tiny moment, before continuing, "and my team."

"Yeah?" He feels his heart lift at her words.

"Of course. Phil."

His heart is now doing very strange things indeed. He'd asked her to call him 'Phil' after she'd asked him to call her Daisy, and had explained why she was changing her name officially to the name her parents had chosen, but she's still mostly been calling him 'Coulson' or 'Director' so it continues to gives him a thrill when she says 'Phil' instead. 

"I'd like that," he says softly, and she smiles.

"Good." She returns her attention to the plans, and the notes she's been making on her tablet, and Coulson forces himself to focus his attention on the task, and not on the young woman beside him.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

"Welcome to The Cocoon, Phil." Daisy greets him with a bright smile as he climbs from the SUV. 

"Thank you Agent Johnson."

She smirks at him, probably because he got her name right, then gestures at the door. "Shall we?"

He nods, and follows her as she crosses the floor of the underground parking garage, then badges herself inside. He presents his own lanyard, and a moment later the electronic voice that just greeted Daisy also greets him.

"I thought I'd save the grand tour until tomorrow," she tells him as she walks beside him down the long hallway. "You must be tired after driving all the way up here."

"A bit," he admits. He'd had a fairly long day at the Playground before setting out, and it's a four hour drive, so he's definitely weary.

"I thought we could have dinner in my quarters, and then you can get yourself settled into your bunk, and then tomorrow we'll look around."

"That sounds good," he says gratefully. "But do you mind if I grab a shower before we eat?"

"Of course not, Phil." 

They take an elevator up four stories, then Daisy ushers him out into a wider, more pleasant hallway, her hand feeling warm at the small of his back. 

"I've put you in the bunk next to my quarters," she tells him. "Though you could've chosen any one of the bunks on this floor since there's so few of us here yet."

"Where are Alisha, Joey, and the others?" he asks curiously.

"On the floor below – nearer the 'action'." She makes air quotes around the last word with a little smirk.

He'll admit to being relieved that Lincoln isn't sleeping next to, or even with, Daisy. And he knows he has no right to feel that way, no right to feel even the tiniest bit jealous, but he can't help it: Phil Coulson has loved Daisy Johnson for a long time, though he's only recently admitted that to himself, and certainly hasn't admitted it to anyone else (though he suspects that Dr Garner has guessed).

"So you're in the lofty grandeur of the top floor," he teases, and she snickers. 

"Lofty grandeur," she repeats, as if it's ridiculous. Which he supposes it is, though he's seen the plans for her quarters so he knows that they're certainly more spacious than the bunk she has back at the Playground.

She opens a door, and steps inside, switching on the central light to reveal a pleasant room: it's not as big as his bedroom back at the base, but it's certainly not a closet, either.

"I'm afraid only my quarters have an ensuite," she tells him, then gestures back through the open door. "But the bathroom is straight across the hall so you won't have far to walk." He nods, and she steps back into the hallway. "When you're ready, I'll be next door." She gestures to the door that's at the end of the hall, facing down its length.

"I'll be as quick as I can," he tells her.

She frowns. "Take your time, Phil," she says. "There's no hurry."

"Okay."

She nods. "I'll see you in a bit." Then she leans in and presses her lips lightly against his cheek. "It's good to see you again," she says, and walks away before he can gather his wits sufficiently to respond.

He swallows, then steps back into his room and closes the door. As he unpacks his overnight bag and finds his toiletries, then lays out a change of clothes, he can't help wondering why Daisy kissed him – okay, pecked him on the cheek, then. He doesn't mind – in fact, he's delighted, but he's also puzzled. 

Shaking his head, he strips out of his suit with a mental sigh of relief, then pulls on his bathrobe and grabs his toiletries before crossing to the bathroom opposite.

He takes his time showering, and can't resist the temptation to jerk off, although he's somewhat ashamed at doing so when the object of his fantasies is sitting unaware in her quarters. 

Once he's dried and dressed again, he knocks on Daisy's door, and hears a 'Come in' from within, so he pushes open the door and steps in, then blinks slightly. He's standing on the threshold of Daisy's sitting room and it seems to exude homeliness. It's quite a shock, given how relatively austere her bunk is back at the Playground.

She looks over at him from her spot by the table where there are two place settings laid, and cocks an eyebrow. "You okay, Phil?"

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry. Just admiring the effect."

She gives him another bright smile, and he suddenly realises that she's practically glowing: it's as if taking charge of her own team has given her a new strength of purpose, and it's clear – to him at least – that she's exactly where she should be, and although he'll miss her presence at the Playground, he's very glad for her.

He crosses the room, taking in the flowers, fabrics, and candles which are subtle and discreet yet definitely give the room a character and warmth that seems like the perfect reflection of Daisy.

"I like what you've done with the place," he tells her as she gestures for him to take a seat.

She ducks her head, her face flushing. "Thanks. I – uh – I took inspiration from my mom, well, from Afterlife, really."

"It looks very comfortable," he tells her sincerely.

"That's what I was aiming for." She goes to fetch two covered plates from the desk at the side of the room, and sets them down on the table. "Joey helped me to cook this," she says. "So it should, you know, be edible." She lifts the covers from the plates, revealing baked fish on a bed of steamed veggies, then sets a basket of thick slices of bread between their plates.

"It looks very good," he assures her, then reaches for his cutlery, and they settle down to eat, talking desultorily about his day at the Playground. 

After eating, they relocate to the couch by the window with their mugs of coffee, and he gets her to tell him about how the training is going. He listens to her, sipping his coffee, and noticing how animated she grows when she's talking of her new team, and he feels so happy for her. She deserves this – she's worked so hard and been through such a lot, but she's never given up, and he thinks that some day quite soon he'll be able to step down as Director of SHIELD and let her take up the role she's so obviously born for. It's a slightly bittersweet thought – but mostly sweet. 

He finishes his coffee and sets the empty mug on the floor, then reaches out and touches her knee (she's sitting facing him with her feet tucked under her). "I'm going to miss you," he says, and she goes wide-eyed.

"Are you leaving, Phil?"

He shakes his head. "No. I meant I'm going to miss having you at the Playground. You've been my right hand woman for quite some time now – it'll be strange not having you there, but you belong here, and I can tell your team are going to be a great asset as soon as you're ready to unleash them."

"Phil," she says, and wraps her fingers around his wrist, then slides her hand up his arm. "I love this casual look you've adopted." She has both her hands wrapped around his upper arms now, and her face is ridiculously close, and he tries desperately to think of something to say – maybe a comment about his sweater-and-jeans attire, but he can't find the words, and he can hardly breathe, and then her mouth touches his lightly, and he grabs her shoulders to press his mouth more firmly against hers.

"Daisy," he breathes, then he nips at her lower lip, laving the spot with his tongue, and she moans, then climbs onto his lap, making him groan as her weight settles over him.

She insinuates her hands under his soft sweater, dragging her palms up his torso, and tweaking his nipples which makes his cock throb as it begins to thicken. They spend a long time kissing, their hands wandering over each other's bodies, until she finally reaches down and unfastens his belt and zip.

"Phil." She hisses his name when her questing hands find his stiff prick pressing hard against the zipper of his jeans.

"Daisy." He grabs her wrists, lifting her hands away and she gives him a worried look. "You have a bed, don't you?" he asks a little desperately, and after a blank moment she chuckles.

"A very nice, very comfy bed," she agrees. 

"Can we make use of it, then?"

She smirks, then lifts herself off his lap before grabbing his left hand and tugging him towards the door that leads into her bedroom. He can't recall the last time he desired someone this much and this intensely, but that's not really a surprise: it's what he thinks of as 'the Daisy effect'.

She uses a sparring move to tumble him backwards onto her bed, then proceeds to strip him rapidly, before swiftly ditching her own clothes. She settles her body over his, guiding his throbbing cock into her slick heat, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from him. 

He has a feeling that sex with Daisy is going to be spectacular and he's pretty excited at the prospect.


	31. I’ve never killed anyone before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2:03 missing scene: angst and cuddles.

"I’ve never killed anyone before."

Skye's voice is quiet, but Coulson can still hear the strain in it.

"It's not certain you killed Donnie," he observes. "May said you've been tracking the Moroccan police reports, and – "

She shakes her head. "They've pulled his body out. It was frozen."

He dares to step closer and touch her arm as she sits on the holotable. "I'm sorry, Skye," he says softly.

She looks up at him, biting her bottom lip, and he can see the shimmer of tears in her eyes, and he doesn't hesitate, though he is more than half certain he should, he simply wraps his arms around her and holds her tight.

She lets out a choked sob, and he feels hot tears against his neck as she loses her iron control on herself, and breaks down completely. He has to fight tears of his own at her reaction, knowing how much she must be hurting.

They don't talk, they just hold each other until she's all cried out, then she pulls back and scrubs at her wet face with the back of her hand. He pulls a handkerchief from his inside jacket pocket and holds it out, and she gives a watery gurgle.

"Only you, Coulson," she says, clearly going for light-hearted.

As she mops her face dry, he says, "If you ever need to talk about this, you can come to me," he says.

That earns him raised eyebrows, and he winces internally, knowing that he deserves the scepticism. "Really?" she asks doubtfully.

He nods. "I know I haven't been around a lot lately, and I'm truly sorry for that." _I'm trying to keep you safe,_ he thinks desperately, but doesn't dare to tell her that because she'll want to know from what, and he doesn't want to discuss that with her: he knows there's no hope left for himself. "But if I'm here and not off recruiting, then yes, you can come to me and talk about this."

"Thanks," she says softly, then holds out his soggy handkerchief. "Sorry, it's a bit, uh, wet."

He smirks. "Keep it."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh very romantic, Director."

That makes him smirk more because she sounds much more like her usual self now.

"You're expecting romantic overtures from me, Agent?" he asks lightly. He's curious, though – he's not an idiot, he's been perfectly aware of the tension that's always existed between them.

To Skye's credit, she doesn't blush, or even look flustered. "It's usually a romantic gesture in fiction," she says. "When the guy gives the girl his handkerchief, then tells her to keep it."

He shakes his head, then reaches out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. "Feeling a bit better?" He tries, but he's not sure he succeeds, to keep tenderness from his voice.

"Yeah. Turns out all I needed was a hug and the chance to sob on the Director's shoulder. Thanks."

"Any time," he says sincerely. He can't help thinking, though, that Skye needs – and deserves – far more than that, and a small part of him wishes that he could give it to her, that he could take her in his arms and make tender love to her, that he could kiss away the hurt and heartache.

But that's not an option. He's certain that he doesn't have much longer, and he's not going to taint Skye's memories of the time they have left together by letting her see him dealing with his horrible compulsion to carve alien symbols on his wall. 

"Let's go and get some dinner," he suggests. "I think Trip's cooking tonight."

"Okay," she says, and gives him a soft, grateful smile that almost undoes his resolve not to tell her everything that's going on with him.

Almost.


	32. No one has a heart of stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Framework: Daisy's seriously considering giving up on the idea of a personal relationship for herself. Coulson changes her mind. Emphatically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated: Explicit

"No one has a heart of stone."

Daisy rolled her eyes. "I didn't actually say that, Coulson. I just said I was done with the relationship stuff. Between my own experiences and those of certain people around me – "

"Except Mack and Elena."

She shook her head. "They're not exactly peachy right now, either, after what happened with his Framework avatar and Hope."

"Daisy." He says her name softly, warm and a bit pleading, although she can't see why he'd be pleading with her about not giving up on romance and relationships – unless it's because he wants to live vicariously through hers. Which doesn't seem hugely likely – Phil Coulson's not like that.

"Why do you care anyway?" she asks curiously.

He shrugs, but he looks a bit shifty, and when she concentrates, his vibrations tell her he's uncomfortable – but he's the one who started this whole conversation, so – She blinks as a thought suddenly occurs to her. 

She moves closer to him on the couch. The Playground's being rebuilt, but for the time being it's not fit for human habitation, so the team's scattered in a variety of safehouses: Mack and Elena are in one, Simmons, May, and Piper are together in another, and so on. She hadn't been sure how she and Phil had ended up together, but she's beginning to wonder if the reason's not a lot more obvious than she'd previously considered.

"Coulson?" She presses her right arm and leg against his left arm and leg, and she feels the way his vibrations intensify at the touch. "Phil?" she whispers, and when he finally turns to look at her, she's sure. 

"God, you're impossible," she mutters, then reaches out and grabs his head in both hands, and leaning in, she plants her mouth firmly on his. His vibrations 'spike', and he kisses her back, his mouth hot and hungry against hers.

She's hardly aware of climbing onto his lap until she feels his cock thickening beneath her bare thigh (she's wearing a dress for once). "Fuck, Phil," she groans, and immediately begins working his pants open.

"Daisy." His groan is desperate, needy, and thrills her to her core as she frees his cock from the confines of his suit pants. He's huge: both thicker and longer than either Lincoln or Miles, and she feels a throb of want between her thighs as she wraps her hand around his dick.

A moment later she feels two of his fingers slip between her folds as he checks to see if she's ready for him: she is so ready – achingly desperate, in fact, and she's beyond grateful when he begins fingering her, rapidly driving her to a breath-taking climax. He doesn’t stop, though, once she's come – just works his fingers even faster until she comes a second time, even harder.

"In me," she manages to gasp out, and he clasps her hips, lifting her so that she can guide his cock into her slick heat. It's his turn to groan as he discovers how hot, and tight, and wet she is, and she feels the surge of desire in his vibrations as his orgasm builds rapidly.

He comes as hard as she had, his hips pistoning upwards as she rides him, and she suddenly feels very glad there's no one else staying in this safe house because neither one of them is being especially quiet tonight.

Once his cock begins to soften, she lifts herself off him, then holds out her right hand. "Shower, then bed," she tells him, and he looks positively thrilled at the prospect.

"Daisy," he says, taking her hand and letting her tug him up to his feet. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," she says a little darkly, smirking. "I don't intend to let you get much sleep tonight."

He shakes his head, clearly amused. "I meant thank you for proving my point."

"Which point," she asks as she leads the way to the bathroom.

"That your heart isn't made of stone."

She rolls her eyes. "You were the one implying it was." He opens his mouth, probably to argue, and she pulls his body against hers, plasters her mouth to his, then pushes them both back against the wall, kissing him fiercely.

"Enough," she growls when she finally pulls back to let him – them both – breathe. "It doesn't matter now."

He chuckles. "I like it when you get aggressive." She raises her eyebrows. "It's very sexy."

"I'll show you sexy," she says with a smirk.

"I look forward to it." His answering smirk sends a shiver down her back, and she all but drags him into the bathroom.

"Shower, then fuck," she tells him.

He's already shedding his suit jacket, eyes gleaming with anticipation, and she sheds her own clothes quickly. This is going to be a good evening, she decides.


	33. Don't call me that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post S4 fic: Daisy's now the Director of SHIELD, which has gone back into the shadows in the aftermath of the business with AIDA and the Framework.

"Don't call me that," Daisy protests feebly.

Phil just smirks at her, the cad. "You don't like the handle?" he teases.

"I'm not an Avenger," she says.

"Which is exactly the point of the name," he says, being so annoyingly reasonable that she rolls her eyes.

"'The Avenger Who Isn't'," she quotes. 

He chuckles. "You're a big damn superhero," he says. "You can't blame people for wondering why you're not an Avenger."

She shakes her head, and to her relief, he relents, settling in the chair beside her bed. "How're you feeling?"

"Battered and bruised," she says. "And hungry and exhausted."

"Time will take care of the first two," he tells her. "I'm hoping I can take care of the third, and that having taken care of that, you'll be able to take care of the fourth." He gently touches his fingertips to her left wrist. "What do you want to eat?"

"The usual Coulson Specials, please."

He gives her a shy grin. "Can do," he says, and starts to get to his feet. She clasps his wrist, then slides her fingers down to lace them with his, and squeezes.

"I've got a feeling I don't thank you often enough for the way you take care of me post-mission."

He shakes his head, giving her that soft, tender look he seems to get at times like this. "You don't have to thank me for that," he says. "You deserve to be taken care of."

"All the same, I appreciate it. Having you as my personal chef definitely helps me." 

"Then let me help some more by getting you some grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato and basil soup, and the rest."

She nods, lets go of his wrist, then closes her eyes as he lets himself out of the bedroom attached to the Director's cabin aboard Zephyr1. Her cabin, now. Which is kinda weird, but also weirdly satisfying. When Coulson had first broached the idea a few months ago, she'd laughed it off because the idea had seemed absurd. Then she'd found out Jeff Mace wasn't really an Inhuman, and discovered, too, that it'd been the likes of Talbot who'd cooked up that particular plot – the same Brigadier General Talbot who'd accused her of Quaking Mace to death, and accused Coulson and May, and others, of being LMDs. When the dust had finally settled after she and Robbie had taken down AIDA – or Ophelia as she'd begun calling herself once she was out of the Framework and had a real body – she'd decided that she didn't want to be an Agent of a SHIELD that could be party to such a deception. Mace had done his best, poor devil, but he should never have agreed to pretend to be part of a persecuted minority. 

She had talked with Coulson, May, Mack, and Elena, and they'd collectively decided that SHIELD was going to go back into the shadows again – and when Coulson, admittedly rather tentatively, had suggested that she become the new Director, she'd agreed – provided he agreed to be Deputy Director. She'd explained that she didn't want to be the sole decision maker and that she felt that he was the best person to assist her in running the new SHIELD since he had the most experience, besides May (and Daisy knew well enough that May would never accept the role), of working for SHIELD, and he had agreed – to her immense relief.

She allows her thoughts to drift away from the state of her body, and the mission she's just successfully, if painfully, completed (rescuing a handful of young Inhumans from the latest iteration of the Watchdogs), and thinks, instead, about how well she and Coulson work together. They've planned ops together in the past, of course, but this is a couple of levels up from that: they're running SHIELD, not merely ops, which means that Daisy's responsible for the safety of every single agent, whether they're deskbound at their new base (they'd converted the Cocoon from a training and assessment space for Inhumans into their base), or out on field missions. Sometimes that responsibility has almost paralysed her, and she's sure that if it wasn't for Phil Coulson having her back, literally and metaphorically, she'd have had to step down. 

"Daisy." Coulson's hand on her arm wakes her from the doze she'd slipped into while waiting for him to return.

"God, sorry. I – "

"Daisy, you don't need to apologise for falling asleep. I'm sorry I had to wake you, but I know you need the food to refuel after using your powers extensively."

"Yeah," she agrees, and struggles to sit up so she can eat. He immediately helps, and as he's leaning over her straightening the bedding, an expression of mingled concern and tenderness on his face, she lifts her right hand, cups his cheek, then presses her lips to his.

"Daisy," he murmurs, then kisses her back as softly. "Thank god."

She raises her eyebrows as he pulls back. "'Thank god'?" she repeats.

He smirks. "I've been wanting to kiss you forever," he says, so casually.

She rolls her eyes. "You're impossible."

"Mmm." He's grinning as he picks up the tray of food and sets it across her lap. "Eat your food."

"We're going to continue this conversation afterwards," she tells him.

He chuckles. "Conversation? I've never heard it called that before."

She rolls her eyes again, then grabs one of the triangles of grilled cheese and dunks it into the bowl of soup. "Behave, Philip." She looks up just as she speaks, and sees a flash of something in his eyes, and she finds herself wondering if he'd like her to be stern with him. The idea is surprisingly appealing, but she decides to focus on the food first otherwise she'll collapse soon.

Afterwards though…


	34. Maybe you’re not thinking hard enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future fic: Director Daisy Johnson fights Watchdogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Mature

"Maybe you’re not thinking hard enough."

Daisy glares at the man staring down at her, a supercilious smile on his face. "Maybe you're an asshole," she suggests in a pleasant tone. "Actually, there's no 'maybe' about that. You are an asshole."

"Silence!" His hand flashes out, and Daisy doesn't have time to move her head before he strikes her hard across the cheek: she'll have fingermarks there later, she's sure.

She hears Phil's gasp from beside her, but she doesn't turn to look at him: she has to keep her focus on Horst and what he's going to do next. She's fairly sure the Watchdog has no idea that the men who'd secured her in this chair earlier had failed to ensure she can't use her powers – and the ropes tying her wrists are nearly loose as she's been stealthily vibrating them apart behind her back while Horst has been interrogating her and Coulson.

Horst half turns to one of the other men, gesturing for him to bring something from the table of tools that's along the back wall, and Daisy feels the last strands of rope part company behind her back. She springs up, both hands flung out in front of her, her left hand is aimed towards the corner of the room where 3 of the Watchdogs are gathered, while her right hand's aimed straight ahead. Her powers slam into all five men simultaneously and the 3 in the corner go down immediately, unconscious before they even hit the ground. 

The fourth man goes down; Horst however staggers backwards, but doesn't actually go down, and Daisy frowns furiously, biting her lower lip in concentration, intensifying the power of her vibrations as he yells in panic. His yells finally cut off, and she staggers, almost falling over, but she can't do that yet. She has to free Coulson, and get them the hell out of Dodge.

"Daisy," he says, radiating anxiety as she forces herself to turn around, then grabs at the back of his chair to steady herself.

"'M'okay," she mumbles, knowing that he'll know it's a lie. She fumbles with the knots in the ropes, then gives up and vibrates the things apart. 

As soon as Coulson's arms are free, he springs up, then turns and catches hold of her as she's definitely about to fall over this time.

"Fracking Watchdogs," she mutters, and is vaguely aware that he's picking her up before she passes out.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

When she comes to, Daisy finds herself lying on the back seat of the SUV, which is being driven at speed. 

"Phil?" The hand on her shoulder tightens, and she starts to move, trying to sit up.

"Steady," Coulson says quietly, and he shifts in his own seat, then eases her into a sitting position. 

She sees Piper is at the wheel, and catches the relieved look on the other woman's face when she checks the driving mirror and sees Daisy's up. She gives Piper as reassuring a smile as she can manage, then turns her attention to Coulson, whose vibrations are full of the anxiety he's feeling but trying to hide.

"Hey," she says softly.

"Hey." He pulls a large bar of chocolate from his pocket and unwraps some, then passes it to her, and she accepts it with both greed and gratitude. "Before you eat that," he says, just as she's about to inelegantly stuff the whole lot into her face. He passes her a drinks bottle, and she stifles a sigh, then uncaps it and drinks about half the weirdly-flavoured high-protein, high-calorie shake that Jemma's still experimenting with. 

"This stuff still tastes weird," she tells him in a low voice.

"I know," he says. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, not your fault," she says. 

"I'm going to get together with Agent Simmons – if we ever get five minutes to spare – and see if we can't improve the flavour of the thing."

She shakes her head, smiling fondly at him. "You're the best," she tells him, and smirks when he blushes a little. She downs the rest of the shake, hands the bottle back to him, then devours the chocolate – she doesn't stuff the whole half bar into her mouth in one go, but it's certainly gone very quickly. 

"If you see a diner or even a 7-Eleven before we get back to the airfield," he says to Piper, "sing out."

Piper nods. "I wouldn't say no to a cronut," she says, and Daisy chuckles. "But maybe we should start bringing more than snacks or whatever with us?"

"We probably should," Coulson agrees. He raises an eyebrow at Daisy. "Director?"

She rolls her eyes at him – he takes a ridiculous amount of pleasure in using her (relatively) new title – and he smirks. "It's a good idea, Piper. Well done."

Piper grins, clearly pleased with her contribution, and Daisy tells Coulson, "For that, you're buying."

He chuckles, clearly completely unfazed by her reaction. "Done."

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

They reach the airfield, and make their way up to the command centre, Daisy letting May know they're aboard so she can take off. "We'll debrief back at the base," she tells Coulson. "I need to shower and crash."

He nods, and she feels his palm against the small of her back as they make their way through the Z1. "Do you need anything else to eat?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay. Will let me take a look at your cheek?"

"My cheek?" For a moment she's confused as she'd quite forgotten about Horst slapping her. She reaches up and touches it, and realises that there's dried blood there, and then she remembers that Horst had been wearing a ring, and she guesses it cut her cheek when he hit her.

"Yeah, thanks Phil."

He nods, and she pauses by the Infirmary as he nips in to grab a handful of supplies, then they head up to the Director's cabin. He settles her on the foot of the bed in the sleeping area, then proceeds to clean away the dried blood, before he puts some antibiotic cream on the gash. "Do you want me to put a dressing on it?" he asks diffidently.

"No thanks. It's not that bad."

"Okay." He wipes his fingers clean, then cups her chin and tilts her head up to the light. "I don't think it'll leave a scar, or if it does, it won't be too obvious."

Daisy swallows hard, trying to speak around the lump in her throat that his tenderness has caused: his hand is warm and gentle, despite his calloused fingertips, and she feels like she could just melt into his arms.

"Well, what's one more scar?" she asks, forcing herself to speak lightly.

He frowns. "You have scars enough," he says, his tone a little fierce. She's not surprised by the tone – she knows well enough that he's very attached to her, and that he cares deeply about her getting hurt.

"So've you," she says, reaching up to lay her hand over his heart, and the scar there from his encounter with Loki.

"Daisy," he says, and there's something in his voice – something she hasn't heard before – and she doesn't stop to think, she just reaches up with her other hand to grab the back of his neck and pull his head down so she can kiss him.

He moans softly, and she forgets all about how tired she is, and grabs him, pulling him off balance and down onto the bed with her. She straddles him, pinning his body to the bed, and she feels a surge of desire, which is echoed by his vibrations.

"Okay?" she asks, her voice gone husky.

"Yes," he says eagerly, and he's already sliding his hands up under the tank she wears beneath her fieldsuit jacket. He clasps her breasts, and they both moan as he flicks her nipples with his thumbs. 

After several minutes of fumbling and frantic kissing, they're both naked, and she barely waits for him to ask, "Do we need a condom?" before she's sinking down onto his impressively large dick.

"Daisy." His moan of pleasure thrills her, and she rides him slowly at first, until they're both so desperate that she relents and picks up the pace.

Afterwards they sprawl side by side on the bed, and she observes. "I'm glad I didn't get as far as the shower."

He chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath her face as she rests with her head on his heart. "Probably is just as well," he agrees. "Do you want to do that now?"

"In a minute," she says. "Too comfy to move."

"Okay." He strokes a hand up and down her arm, and she thinks she might just postpone the shower and go to sleep where she is – she's certain she'll sleep better wrapped in Phil's arms and with his contented vibrations seeping into her own.


	35. Can you just shut up for five minutes?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon-Divergence post 3:07: After getting captured by some Watchdogs, Daisy and Coulson get closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final ficlet for the final prompt! Yay!

"Can you just shut up for five minutes?" Daisy demands of Hunter, who looks mortally offended.

"Oi, I – "

"I'm trying to concentrate," she tells him, and sees Bobbi punch Hunter's upper arm, and the Brit subsides muttering _sotto voce_ ; she notices, when she glances his way, that Coulson's scowling at the other man, and the sight warms her absurdly.

She looks back at the older woman and asks, " How's your knee?"

"Not broken," Bobbi answers, sounding relieved, which is understandable since it's not that long since she got back out in the field after Ward tortured and badly injured her. "Twisted, I think, when we were shoved down here." 

Daisy nods, then focuses her attention back on her arms with the shackles around the wrists – shackles which are supposed to be inhibiting her powers. She can feel the others – Hunter's simmering annoyance, Bobbi's pain, and Coulson's anxiety – but they're all muted, a background to herself and her powers. The very fact that she can sense the others tells her that these shackles aren't as good as the creator thought – which is very good news indeed.

She concentrates harder, and the shackles vibrate, then fall apart, the bits dropping to the floor.

Bobbi exchanges a startled look with Coulson, then grins at Daisy. "You're a rockstar."

She feels Coulson's hand press against her back; it's warm through her tank. "I guess we should be grateful that no one else really knows how your powers work," he observes.

"Yeah," agrees Bobbi. She looks up at the trapdoor. "Thing is, even if we could get that open, I couldn't get out of there with this knee."

"I can get you out," Daisy says quietly.

"How?" asks Coulson, before Bobbi can get the question in first.

Daisy waggles her fingers. "My powers. After I stopped Price from falling when Lash threw her off that balcony, I started practising using my powers to lower and raise people."

"You did?" asks Coulson, sounding very surprised. "Who did you practise on?"

Daisy smirks a little. "I may've volunteered some of the field agents that came to us from Gonzales' Real SHIELD."

Coulson looks torn between being impressed and horrified, Bobbi grins, and Hunter sniggers. 

Daisy grins too, then turns to Hunter and Coulson. "Boost me up."

Hunter frowns, then looks up at the trapdoor. "Can't you just blow it open?"

She rolls her eyes. "Sure, Hunter, and let anyone who may be up there know that I'm _not_ shackled and incapable of escaping? Great plan. Really."

He rolls his eyes in return, but doesn't argue. Instead he joins Coulson beneath the trap, and they cup their hands for Daisy to step into. She begins to carefully vibrate air against the trapdoor until it's loosened, then she steadily vibrates it harder until pieces begin to fall down around Coulson and Hunter. 

Once the door's demolished, she gets the two men to set her on the ground again, then she turns to Coulson. "You'd better go first," she tells him. "You're less impulsive than him." She jerks a thumb at Hunter, who predictably protests until everyone else choruses "Shut up Hunter!" 

"Hunter should go next – see if you can find a vehicle," she tells him, and he nods an acknowledgement – she suspects he's sulking from being told to shut up so often. "Then I'll get Bobbi out."

Bobbi nods too, and Daisy and Hunter boost Coulson up, then he leans back in through the trapdoor, and reaches down as Daisy boosts Hunter up, and between them they get the Brit out as well. He immediately disappears from view, and Daisy has every confidence that if there's a vehicle around, he'll bring it.

Then she turns to Bobbi. "Ready?

At the other woman's nod she vibrates the air around Bobbi and slowly, carefully, raises her up and through the trapdoor. It takes a bigger effort than she lets on to the others, but she gets Bobbi there, and after a moment Coulson leans down to offer Daisy a hand.

"C'mon," he says. "Jump."

She smirks. "No need. I can get myself out."

"How?" says Coulson curiously.

"Move back and watch," she says, and as she jumps up towards the trapdoor, she 'fires' her vibrations down at the floor, using the power to boost herself up and out. She's a bit too enthusiastic about it, or maybe exhaustion makes her less controlled – either way she flies out faster and harder than she'd planned, and she's grateful to Coulson for grabbing her arm and keeping her from shooting up until she crashes against the ceiling.

She staggers, then goes to her knees when her feet touch the ground, and Coulson and Bobbi lean over her, their expressions worried.

"Daisy, you okay?" 

"Tired," Daisy admits. "That used up a lot of my energy."

They wait in a tense, almost breathless silence, for what feels like forever to Daisy, but is really only a couple of minutes, then Hunter arrives at the wheel of an SUV, and while he helps Bobbi to climb into the front passenger seat, Coulson helps Daisy into the back. 

"Hold on tight," Hunter warns, then puts his foot down and rockets out of the warehouse that the Watchdog group had taken them to after capturing the four of them.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

The next thing Daisy knows, she's waking up aboard the Zephyr1 in a room she doesn't recognise. She doesn't panic, however, because she senses some familiar vibrations nearby, even before she gets her eyes open and sees Coulson sitting by the bed. He's got his eyes closed, but she doesn't think he's asleep.

"Phil?"

His eyes snap open, and she sees relief in them, and something else she can't identify. 

"Daisy," he says, leaning towards her and resting his hand by her arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," she says, and starts to push herself up into a sitting position. He immediately gets up and gently helps her, shoving pillows behind her to support her back.

"Okay?" he asks, and she's pretty sure she's not imagining the tenderness in his voice as he speaks.

"Yeah," she says. "How's Bobbi?"

"She'll be okay. She just needs to stay off her knee for a few days. Again." She nods, and he says, "Let me get you something to eat."

"Phil, I can get up," she protests.

"You don't have to," he says, pretty insistently, so she doesn't argue, she just nods and lets him go.

He returns pretty quickly, carrying a tray from which pleasant scents are wafting, and she recognises tomato and basil soup, and what she suspects is a grilled cheese sandwich, and she can't help smiling as he sets the tray across her lap. (There are two grilled cheese, in fact.)

"You spoil me, Director," she says lightly.

"You deserve it," he says, rather more intensely. He brushes his hand against her shoulder. 

She shrugs as he sits down beside the bed again. "We all do what we can." She digs into her food, desperate to refuel, and he remains beside her, talking with her about the mission they were finishing when the Watchdogs captured them.

When she finishes her food, Coulson asks if she wants anything else to eat.

"No, thank you," she says, then stifles a yawn.

"You should get some more rest," he says.

"You look like you could use some yourself," she observes. He definitely looks like he's drooping after he got knocked out, temporarily, by the Watchdogs. "I can go and nab one of the other bunks."

"Why would you do that?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"Well this is the Director's cabin, so if anyone should be resting in here it's you, not me."

"Or we could share," he says, sounding tentative. "I mean, it's a big bed."

She smiles. "If you're sure," she says. She kinda likes the idea, although she's fully aware they're not gonna cuddle up together or anything like that.

"I'm sure," he says. He gets to his feet, takes her tray and sets it on the credenza, then he pulls off his sweater, before sitting on the corner of the bed and removing his shoes.

"Are you okay with the left side?" Daisy asks.

"Perfectly, thank you," he says, and lies down beside her, then sits up again to help her when she starts dragging some of the pillows out from behind her back. Once they've got them rearranged, they both lie down on their backs, but with their faces towards each other. 

After a few moments, she rolls onto her side, then reaches out and draws her fingertips down his cheek, which is starting to feel a little rough and stubbly.

"Daisy?" he whispers.

"It scared me today, when you got knocked out," she tells him in a low voice. "I'd hate to lose you."

"Likewise," he says and rolls onto his side to face her, then he reaches out and cups her cheek, ever so gently because it's his prosthetic. "Every time I've come close to losing you, I've panicked. When Quinn shot you, and Ward kidnapped you, when you were trapped in the temple, and Gordon took you to Afterlife. I couldn't do this job without you, you know. Not any more."

"Phil." Daisy can hardly speak through the lump of emotion that seems to have lodged itself in her throat.

"Daisy." He carefully slides his hand to the back of her neck, and draws her head towards his even as he leans in towards her. When his mouth touches hers she sighs against his lips, then opens her mouth eagerly under his.

After spending some time simply kissing and lightly touching each other, they pull apart and look at each other, then Coulson says, "There's something I need to tell you."

"Is it that you slept with Price?" Daisy asks.

He blushes, then asks, "How did you know?"

She snorts. "You didn't come home after going for a drink with her? And when you did come back the next morning, your shirt smelled of her perfume."

"I'm sorry, Daisy."

"Why?" He looks confused, so she asks, "What are you sorry for, Phil? Having sex with a woman you hardly know, and whom I'm pretty sure you don't actually trust – a woman whose views are radically different from your own?"

"Yes." He whispers the word.

She shrugs. "We all make bad choices, Phil. I kissed Lincoln." He looks startled, and she shrugs again. "I was trying to persuade him to let SHIELD help him."

"So you kissed him?"

"At least I didn't have sex with him."

"I deserved that," he mutters. "And I can't even justify doing it. Saying I was lonely isn't a justification." 

"It's not the best reason," she tells him. "But there are worse."

"I should've come to you," he says, and she feels her eyes go wide.

"For sex?" she asks, surprised by the idea.

"To talk, at least," he says. "I haven't been as open with you as I should have been – as I promised I would last year, when I told you about the carving."

"No, you haven't," she says, but there's no condemnation in her voice – she understands that it's not easy being open when you're the Director of SHIELD.

"I should've been," he says.

"Well, I can't argue with that. But at the same time, I understand why you haven't been."

"I'll do better, I promise," he says earnestly.

"Good. In the meantime, though." She raises her eyebrows at him, and he chuckles, then leans in and kisses her some more.

She's pretty sure they're not going to stop at kissing – which is a very exciting thought – but she's also fairly sure they're not going to have sex right now. That's okay, though – she can wait, although not too much longer she hopes.


End file.
